


The Great April Flood

by Amylion, Azalea_Scroggs, HeartOfStars, LadyVader23, Mokulule, planningconquest, SilverDaye, SpellCleaver, Yelling_in_Space



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Character Death, Dark Padmé Amidala, Father-Daughter Relationship, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Monsters, Mother-Son Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:20:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 35
Words: 28,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23510740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amylion/pseuds/Amylion, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azalea_Scroggs/pseuds/Azalea_Scroggs, https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeartOfStars/pseuds/HeartOfStars, https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyVader23/pseuds/LadyVader23, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mokulule/pseuds/Mokulule, https://archiveofourown.org/users/planningconquest/pseuds/planningconquest, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverDaye/pseuds/SilverDaye, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpellCleaver/pseuds/SpellCleaver, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yelling_in_Space/pseuds/Yelling_in_Space
Summary: The idea was to bring together a group of remarkable people to work on prompts we received, see if they could become something more. The Great April Flood: a challenge taken up by several Star Wars writers to answer and continue as many prompts as possible before flooding Tumblr with them on April 1st. Good news for non-Tumblr people: the prompts can now be found...HERE!Some of the stories include:*After crash-landing on a planet with Vader post-ESB, Luke escapes into some caves...but something far worse than Vader lives down there.*Vader has raised Luke under Palpatine's eye for long enough, and he decides the Emperor's time is up. But Palpatine will not go without a fight...and he might make things worse for Luke along the way.*Post-ANH, a band of Rebels falls into Vader's trap; but what Vader doesn't know is that one of the Rebels is his son.*Raised by Vader, Luke has become disillusioned with his father's ways and decides to defect; this does not go over well with said father. But Vader isn't the only family Luke has....and many, many more!
Relationships: Ahsoka Tano & Darth Vader, Anakin Skywalker & Luke Skywalker, Leia Organa & Luke Skywalker, Luke Skywalker & Darth Vader, Padmé Amidala & Luke Skywalker, Wedge Antilles & Luke Skywalker
Comments: 89
Kudos: 306





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this was A Thing that just happened among several of us Star Wars--mostly Skywalker-focused--writers decided to do, and it simultaneously kind of took off, and it was fantastic. A while back, several of us had answered prompts like these on Tumblr, and we thought it would be neat to continue them, and continue them, and continue them, expanding on the stories that were already created. More writers answered the call, to make wonderful, fantastic mischief on April Fools' Day. Gradually, as we accumulated more writers, the collection of stories grew, the LENGTH of the stories grew, and it just turned into a monstrosity. And then. And then, on April 1st, we released the Great April Flood. And we.  
> Broke.  
> Tumblr.  
> Anyway, we thought we'd post them here now that the Flood has abated. Happy reading!

_There were many, many reasons he hated sand, but right now the major one was its adverse effects on his prosthetic(s)._

It had been a stupid idea from the start. He didn’t even understand the sentimentality behind it. He hadn’t had any desire to visit the homestead where he’d experienced one of his greatest failures as Skywalker, and he shouldn’t have as Vader, either. 

But here he was. Standing in the dark, staring at the domed entrance to the farm his mother had spent the last years of her life on. 

It was dark. The suns had long set, and a chilly wind brushed his cape back. No one in Skywalker’s step family would know he was there, to visit a grave he should have forgotten along with the rest of that life. 

He should turn around and go back to his ship. The sand digging into his prosthetic joints was a perfectly good excuse. 

Instead, he found himself walking forward. 

The grave was almost as he’d left it, though weathered. A new one sat next to it, one he ignored. 

What was he even supposed to do? Why was he here? He certainly wasn’t going to talk to the bones and dust his mother had become. 

What would she even _think_ of him now? 

Painful memories began to surface, memories the Dark Side latched onto, fueling him…

“Hi.” 

His lightsaber was lit in the same second he whirled, lifting it to destroy…

He paused. 

A young boy stared up at him--or rather, his lightsaber. Wide-eyed in the red glow. 

_~LadyVader_

* * *

“Are you a demon?” the boy asked, mouth open wide. He looked far too young to be so excited about that.

“A _what_?”

“A demon. Uncle says they roam the desert at night and eat little boys who wander out of the homestead after dark.”

Vader blinked.

Did— did he just ask Vader if he was a child’s euphemism for _Tusken Raiders_?

Hot rage roared up in him at the concept and the boy staggered back; for the first time, Vader took in that the child was barefoot, dressed in only thin farmer’s nightclothes, clutching a stuffed bantha to his chest. He must be freezing, but he didn’t shiver.

Vader pulled himself back, suddenly _hating_ the way that little boy’s eyes stared up at him. He looked too much like a mirror from long ago for his liking and it made him… uncomfortable—

“Return to bed, and do not tell your father I was here,” he ordered, like bossing around a child would help him gain control over his own feelings. This had to be Owen’s son, his nephew by marriage, but Vader had no intention of associating with him.

The boy scowled. “My father’s death. I live with my uncle.” He clutched his bantha more tightly. “Uncle didn’t even know him well—he only came back when _his_ mother was attacked by the demons.” He jutted his chin in some direction.

Vader, despite himself, followed his gaze…

...and stared between the boy who looked far too much like Anakin Skywalker and the grave with the name _Shmi Skywalker_ carved into it with care.

_~SpellCleaver_


	2. Chapter 2

_Vader had not smiled this much in six years - in fact, he hadn’t smiled at all._

But how could he not? In his lap sat his son, his hands on the throttle of his safest star ship, one of the few with only one set of deadly turbo lasers. There wasn’t anything to shoot, of course. They were in the middle of space, with no nearby planets or starships to crash into or disturb. Maybe it wasn’t a great idea to bring a six year old out to fly a starship, but hadn’t he been flying podracers at that age? 

His mother had hated it. But Luke was _his_ son, and his delighted squeals as he wildly spun the ship was enough to make even his black heart soar. His son was a bright supernova on normal days, but today? 

Vader could only bask in its glory. 

_~LadyVader_


	3. Chapter 3

_Luke slid down the wall of the hangar as celebration erupted around him as the rebels shouted in glee about the Alliance victory and death of Darth Vader._

Dazed Luke walked through the crowd, not even really feeling the congratulatory pats on his back and shoulders. It shouldn’t matter, a father who was never a father shouldn’t matter, he’d brought Luke nothing but pain; he’d tortured his friends. Yet the was an ache in his chest and the uncharacteristic silence on the other side of the door Luke had slammed in his mind to keep Vader out left him bereft.

Wedge suddenly stood in front of Luke and before Luke even proper registered it, Wedge’s arms were around him, Luke held on desperately. Wedge was the one solid thing in the storm.

_~Mokulule_

* * *

Wedge was whispering comforting nothings in his ear, rubbing his back, and Luke only realised he was crying when he took a shaky breath. He should pull himself together, he thought; that man didn’t deserve his tears. But his best intentions weren’t enough to quell the torrent that crashed out of him now that the dam was broken, and he kept holding Wedge as tight as he could, like a lifeline, while his bitter sobs were shaking his body.

He didn’t know how long it took for him to calm down, but he stepped back as soon as he felt a bit more composed. With a thankful, quivering smile at Wedge, he wiped his tears and took a deep breath.

“Kriff, Luke. I’m so sorry,” his friend said. “You all right?”

Luke nodded, not trusting himself to speak yet before breaking down again. It wasn’t fair; Wedge should be partying and rejoicing with the others, not bear witness to Luke’s indecent grief for a man that only ever brought them suffering.

And kept doing so, Luke guessed, at least in his case; but he couldn’t bring himself to resent his father for that.

“I don’t even know why I’m so upset,” he said, a little bit ashamed and trying to justify his outburst. “I shouldn’t be. He didn’t raise me. We were nothing to each other. What does blood matter? It’s just a matter of genetics.”

“Luke, stop it,” Wedge said. “You’re hurting. You’re allowed to hurt. He was your father, even if he never acted as such.”

“He saved my life,” Luke couldn’t help but whisper.

Wedge inclined his head.

“ _Nearly_ never acted as such, then. It doesn’t matter. Don’t feel guilty for missing him.”

“I don’t even miss him,” Luke replied. “It’s just… it’s stupid. But I’ve wanted to know my father all my life. My whole childhood, I’ve thought about him coming back for me. And now that I finally found him… I just wish we’d had more time.”

His throat was tightening again, and Luke swallowed.

He knew it was for the better that Darth Vader had died. So many people in the Rebellion and the Empire alike had suffered at his hand. He hadn’t deserved to live.

But Luke wished he had anyway.

Wedge simply squeezed his shoulder without a word.

_~Azalea_

* * *

“It’s all of your childhood dreams you’re crying for. Not just him. And a lifetime of dreams is a big thing to mourn.”

Luke looked up, those words rang true. Yes, he realised, he wasn’t crying for Darth Vader, not for that dark shadow that had been a weight on his shoulders for years now, but for Anakin Skywalker, the navigator, the pilot, the Jedi; the one who’d have raised him if he hadn’t been killed, or spent a lifetime in captivity; the father who’d been pining for his son as much as the son for his father, while a galaxy separated them; the one who’d loved his son every waking hour; and perhaps also a bit for the blue eyes that had lain behind the mask, briefly as he had seen them. But at least he knew now that father had existed at some point in time, and had loved his son enough to break the chains that had held him. 

_~Amylion_


	4. Chapter 4

_"What the karking hell are you doing, Luke?"_

Luke froze mid-sneak, hand still on the controls to extend the ramp to Ahsoka’s ship, sheepishly turned to his sister and said, “Hear me out.”

“I’m listening, and I haven’t told Ahsoka— _yet.”_

“I found out that Dad’s alive,” he said breathlessly, wiping his sweaty palms on his trousers, “and I’m going to save him.”

“Really,” Leia drawled, eyebrows climbing higher and higher on her face despite the momentary flicker of shock; she glanced at his hands, still hovering awkwardly, “and what’s the catch?”

He smiled nervously and repeated: “Now, hear me out…”

_~SpellCleaver_

* * *

Leia did not exactly hear him out: “Are you _insane_?” she shouted, loud enough to smash Luke’s hopes for a quiet exit. “You are not going. That is a command!”

“Right… As a higher ranking official, or as my sister?” he asked carefully (he should have known it was the wrong thing to ask).

“BOTH!” She screamed, then took a deep breath and he braced himself for what was coming next, but that quiet, icy tone was not what he had been expecting. “Obviously I’m not letting you go alone. I’m coming. And so is Ahsoka.”

_~Amylion_

* * *

“See...that’s the thing.” Luke shifted uncomfortably. “I _really_ should tell you the catch first…” 

“I don’t care if the Emperor himself has dad--” 

“Well...you’re not exactly wrong.” 

Leia stared at him, lips pressed tightly together, cheeks flushed. “Explain.” 

Luke winced, shrinking a little under the weight of her gaze. “Well. He’s...he’s now Darth Vader.” 

_~LadyVader_

* * *

She looked at him unblinkingly for at least five seconds. Then: “Is this some kind of joke? Who told you this bullshit?”

“Erm… he did, actually. Kind of. In a dream. I mean, he didn’t really, I don’t think he knows of us, but it was his voice.”

“Let me get this straight. You dreamt that Darth Vader told you he’s our dad and so you planned to go out there and… what, exactly, Luke? Have a little chat? At his twelve mile long warship, or the fancy lava castle where he keeps his killer droids?”

Luke sighed and rubbed his face in frustration. “I knew you would react this way, and look, Leia, I know how crazy it sounds. But this wasn’t an ordinary dream, it was a vision from the Force. And right now, he needs me, and well, think of the bigger picture here. What that would mean for us, the Rebellion. For the _galaxy_. Darth Vader on our side.”

Leia was by now used to Luke’s sometimes crazy calls, directives from the Force, but this was by far the most outlandish. “Where is he?”

“On a planet called Korriban. And I think he’s in trouble.”

She sighed. “Okay. Go. Who am I to go against the Force’s wishes. But I stand by what I said earlier: you’re definitely not going alone, Jedi boy.”

_~Amylion_


	5. Chapter 5

_"You'd better drop your weapon, Darth," the boy said, "we've got you surrounded."_

Perfect, Vader thought; this was perfect; the trap had worked.

He could mop up what pitiful Rebels the boy had managed to scrape together, his troops were on the way on the very slim chance anything went wrong, the little bratty padawan would finally be caught and killed, and Vader turned his gaze to the lightsaber he would finally add to the many he’d claimed as the spoils of war—

And he froze, growled, “That lightsaber…” and the boy smirked.

“My father’s,” he said; Vader’s mind staggered under the implications of it, but not enough that when the boy lit it and brought it down, he was not able to parry, suddenly very invested in getting this child out of his own trap alive.

He had not dropped his weapon, after all, even as the Rebel squads opened fire.

_~ SpellCleaver_

* * *

Instead he grabbed the boy and pulled him behind him, using his lightsabre to deflect the Rebel blaster bolts.

“Luke!” one of them shouted, a black-haired boy that seemed a little older than the padawan.

Vader felt a pang in his chest, remembering the conversation he'd had with Padmé; about possible names. That had been one of their choices.

But the Rebels were still firing, risking to hurt Luke - _Luke!_ \- in the process. Vader had to do something. An idea crossed his mind. He pulled on the arm he was still holding and held the boy in front of him, his blade under his throat. The Rebels’ fire diminished somewhat as they saw what he was doing, their horror resounding through the Force.

“Keep firing,” Vader said, loud enough that all of them heard him, “and your friend dies.”

_~Azalea_

* * *

It was miraculous, how quickly the firing stopped; how obvious it was that they cared for Luke. The dark-haired Rebel was the first to stop, and Vader filed that away for later use. 

At the moment, the boy was struggling in his arms, pushing against him with what was apparently all the strength he could muster; it was not much compared to Vader’s own strength, but he had to admire the child’s attempt. 

His power _sang_ in the Force. 

Sang, shouted at him, screamed its potential. It felt like...like something familiar, and then Vader wondered how he had not know it before. 

“Let go of me,” Luke demanded, his voice trembling with fear...and anger. “Hey! Let me go!”

Vader did not let him go. Instead he turned him around, gripping Luke by both arms to look him in the face. A face framed by thick blond hair, tumbling into his eyes, which--he could only guess through the lenses of his mask--which were blue, and below them a nose which...which he knew, and a chin that he had seen in the mirror thousands of times, in a different life. There was only one thing that would confirm this. 

“You will come with me,” Vader growled, forcing Luke to look at him; fear shot through the boy’s eyes, and he began to tremble. That would be remedied as well--beyond the injuries he could already tell that the boy had sustained. “And we will have _words._ ” 

_~HeartOfStars_

* * *

Even restrained, the boy-- _Luke--_ put up a fight. He did not stop struggling, digging his heels into the ground. It was nothing but a minor hindrance, though an annoying one at that. Still, Vader paid it little head. How could he, when he could finally touch, and even more importantly, _feel_ the son he had thought dead? 

He didn’t remember much between where they’d left the Rebels and his ship. Troops waited outside his shuttle. They started when Vader approached, dragging a Rebel behind him. This hadn’t been part of the plan. He was supposed to signal them to come to him. 

But plans changed. He couldn’t risk the Rebels following him, or even leaving the planet to tell their precious Rebel Command he had their precious Jedi. If word got out, and Sidious were to find out…

No. He couldn’t let that happen. He _wouldn’t._

“The Rebels are due North of us.” He growled as he dragged Luke up the ramp. “Take care of it.” 

“Sir!” 

The moment they were in the shuttle, Vader used the Force to flick the ramp switch, before dragging the boy into the cockpit. 

Where he immediately crushed the windpipe of the pilot before he’d even had a chance to register Vader’s arrival. 

He felt Luke’s fear spike in the Force, felt his very core tremble as he finally began to realize the gravity of the situation he was in. Or, rather, he thought he did. Vader carelessly shoved the pilot’s body aside. 

“Why...what... _why?!”_ Luke stammered, and when Vader summoned cuffs into his hand, he found the boy staring wide-eyed at the body. How many bodies had he seen? Vader wondered, but pushed the thought away. 

There were far more important things to discuss.

_~LadyVader_


	6. Chapter 6

_"Boy, that went wrong.", Luke thought. And, just as he had stated in his mind, things had, once again, went wrong._

_It would not have been so catastrophic had you simply heeded my advice._

Luke whistled to himself and walked away from the burning X-wing, which groaned and collapsed into the lake he’d crashed into the edge of.

 _The moment I have cleared up the rest of your squadron, young one, I_ will _come to the surface and I_ will _find you; you cannot hide._

“Pretty sure I can,” Luke murmured to himself, smiling as he a) sensed the Rogues high above him escape from the Imperial ambush into hyperspace and b) laid eyes on the boat house, which, if he was correct, had an entrance to the very reason the Rebellion had been so interested in this planet as a base at all.

He smiled and, tossing his father a brief equivalent of a mental salute, vanished into the catacombs

_~SpellCleaver_

* * *

The dark didn’t bother Vader. His lenses were equipped for low-light and heat sensing. The many creatures that crawled through the catacombs didn’t bother him either. What bothered him was that his son was down here, somewhere, and the place was a blasted maze. Sure, Vader could sense Luke, but there wasn’t a direct path to the boy. He would just carve his own path with his lightsaber, but with how the tunnels built on top of each other, he feared a cave-in. So for now he pushed on, while locking on to that bright Force presence of his son.

_~SilverDaye_

* * *

The fact that his stubborn, quirky son was at that dangerous age he believed he could handle the world, but hadn’t the faintest idea of the full evil capacities of a true Sith temple, was his greatest worry. Luke believed this was all a game, but his life was at stake. And all this for a bout of typical teenage rebellion, it would make his blood boil if he wasn’t so afraid. Once he’d retrieved his son, he’d never leave his room ever again, he swore. If he _did_ retrieve his son, because he suddenly felt an oppressive presence that hadn’t been there before, and judging on Luke’s feedback through their bond, he was not the only one who’d noticed.

_~ Amylion_

* * *

Luke lost track of how long he’d been wandering. Worse, even as he’d been forced to turn on his flashlight to see in the ever growing darkness, it did little to light anything beyond an arm's reach. He’d expected to find a second way out (the idea of being trapped with an enraged Sith Lord, after all, was not appealing), but instead he could practically feel the weight of the mountain above as he pressed deeper and deeper. 

Was he only cold because of the lack of sunlight? Or was it something else that made him start to shiver as rough rock turned into smooth marble beneath his feet? 

And surely that noise was just rocks grinding together, right? This was, after all, supposed to be uninhabited. 

So why did he suddenly feel like he was being watched?

_~LadyVader_

* * *

Out of nowhere, something leaped. 

It was his father; Vader had found him, and in an instant Luke had his lightsaber drawn and was swinging to attack. But no other lightsaber came to meet him. Vader was not there. 

Instead, it was a kind of _creature,_ with a gaping mouth and long claws, leaping right at Luke’s face--

Luke swung. The creature was sliced in half, dropped to the ground...and screamed. 

There was a many-fold hiss. 

In an instant, dozens of other creatures lunged for him, hissing and squealing and leaping at him from all corners of the catacombs. Luke swung at them, threw them with the Force, did everything he could do but _they kept coming,_ like millions of tiny insects except each one of them was almost as tall as he was--

Pain exploded in his side. 

With a shout, he fell; the lightsaber dropped from his hand, and he called on the Force just in time to save his life. 

He wasn’t so lucky the second time. 

One of them leaped and landed on top of him, powerful limbs crushing him and the claws digging into him; Luke was too terrified even to scream. 

Up close, he could see the mouth as it opened, filled with gigantic teeth that dripped with venom. It bent over him. 

And then he was screaming into the Force. 

_Father! FATHER!_

_~ HeartOfStars_

* * *

And Vader heard him.

Fear was a familiar feeling to him: he’d feared for his mother, feared for Obi-Wan, feared for Ahsoka. And his fear for Padmé had been his— no. All of that, the fear for Padmé, had been _Skywalker’s_ undoing.

Anakin Skywalker’s.

It would not be Luke Skywalker’s as well.

Never mind that the boy had been foolish enough to run away and join the Rebels as it was. Never mind that he’d taken on a name Vader had never wanted him to bear, rejecting his titles and Imperial prestige and wealth. Luke was here, and he was young and foolish, and _he was in danger._

When he reached the place the cry had come from, though, Luke was nowhere to be seen. 

But blood was. So much of it, darkening the unnervingly white floor—like a stain on an altar—and the footprints of dozens of creatures had stampeded through it, down a tunnel to the left. Vader peered after it, and though he heard no screams as he started walking, he heard something much, much worse. 

_~ SpellCleaver_

* * *

It was the sound of something being devoured. 

He knew it immediately, before he saw it--the sounds of sucking, of the tearing of flesh and bone, of limbs being torn to shreds by vicious teeth. Vader almost was afraid to see it, to glimpse what was happening to his son; but he kept moving anyway. Maybe it was not Luke, maybe it was just another creature, he told himself--

The creatures he was following had disappeared; this was their nest, which Vader could tell from the net of webbing and bone and blood that criss crossed over the ground in front of him. Then, beyond that, there were various pieces of flesh; someone’s flesh. 

The creatures, surrounding...surrounding _something_ expectantly…

And Luke, cocooned in sinew and webbing, lying motionless on the floor. 

_NO!_

In an instant, Vader’s world was shattered. Where a moment ago everything had had meaning, now there was nothing; the one remaining candle of hope in his life was vanquished. Nothing mattered. Everything was meaningless, and he wanted to take his lightsaber and unleash it on the creatures that had killed his son, to stop them from devouring the boy, _his boy,_ just so that he could hold his son, touch him, cradle him in his arms the way he had never been able to, to give Luke in death what he had been so vehemently denied in life--

Except that it was not Luke who was being devoured; it was something else. 

Vader’s rage abated, just enough for him to edge forward, to see…

The creatures, horrible gray things with long, scuttling legs and mouths dripping with either acid or venom, were all crouched around another thing, twice their size: a gargantuan queen that loomed over all the other insects, who was bending over some sort of thing--a person, a Stormtrooper, which he knew because the white armor was thrown in the corner--who was straightening up, blood dripping from her jaws, and throwing the rest of the body to the other creatures. They pounced on it, though there was hardly anything of him left. 

Vader did not care for his Stormtroopers. But even he could not watch that. 

The queen turned toward several of the larger creatures--guards, perhaps?--and hissed something at them. Immediately, they took hold of Luke-- _do not touch him, do not TOUCH him, he is MINE--_ and dragged him to the queen--

And his hand twitched. 

A minute movement, tiny, barely noticeable, and certainly not conscious...but _alive._

As quickly as it had fallen apart, Vader’s world was knit back together; he saw everything clearly. His son was still there, his child, his angel who he had hurt time and time again, whose hand he had taken and whose friends he had tortured--and he was _not_ dead. Luke was _alive._

And these creatures were going to kill him. 

The creatures laid Luke in front of their queen, and then backed off, almost reverently. The queen, hissing in a way that suggested that she was pleased, bent over him--

 _Never,_ thought Vader. Igniting his lightsaber, he strode forward into the room. 

The creatures spun around; the queen straightened up and _screamed._ Vader was unaffected.

“Get away from my son,” he snarled. 

_~ HeartOfStars_

* * *

He didn’t stop to think as he swung his blade, rage an even redder haze than the lenses of his mask before his eyes. The creatures shrieked, a monstrous and shrill sound, their blood black and sticky as it spread under Vader’s soles.

He nearly didn’t see the one that had crept back next to Luke, nearly didn’t see its fangs approach his son’s neck - 

With a roar, Vader reached out a hand. The creature was thrown against the wall and _exploded_ , bits of legs and blood and organs splattering black and red through the whole room.

He didn’t lose a second to come closer to Luke, frantically touching his presence in the Force. It was still there, to his relief; muted and small, but there.

With great care, Vader cut through the webs that were ensnaring his son, freeing him. It wasn’t enough to get rid of the substance entirely, but he already felt better upon seeing his limbs free, even though they remained limp and motionless.

He brushed a bang from Luke’s forehead, realising too late that he’d smeared spider blood on his son’s skin. Luke’s skin was too pale, his lips a bit too close to purple, his face slack as if he was unconscious; but his eyelids were fluttering frantically, half rising periodically, and Vader realised with some relief that Luke was awake.

“You’re safe, Luke,” he said as quietly as he could.

Luke’s presence flared in the Force, brushing against his, seeking warmth and reassurance.

_Father…_

Then, to Vader’s horror, it trembled and flickered like a flame before shrinking.

“No. No, Luke, hold on,” he pleaded. “Stay with me.”

But it was like trying to hold water through his fingers. Luke sunk deeper into unconsciousness, the stress and horror getting at him, his body shutting down to better fight the poison still circulating through his veins.

He was still alive, but barely.

Vader all but ran out of the complex, the maze crumbling around him as he hurried to his shuttle, holding his son close against him.

_~ Azalea_


	7. Chapter 7

_Ahsoka and Vader looked between each other, separated only by the thick glass of the bacta tank._

Vader clasped his hands behind his back as he started a slow circle around the tank. He could feel her eyes watching him as well as her anger. He smiled behind his mask. 

“You are cut off from the Force,” he explained. 

Not that she could have done much with her body in that state. He had made it back to the front of the tank. He stood directly in front of her again. Why had he spared her? He should have cut her down, but he had hesitated. Her eyes had lost their anger. Instead, they seemed softer as if she was pleading … Pleading what? He was not weak. He would not fall for whatever trick she was trying to pull. 

“We have a lot to discuss,” Vader said slowly. “Where are the remaining Jedi hiding? Where is Obi-Wan Kenobi?” 

She flinched at the mention of that name. Perhaps she did know where that old coward was. But even that wasn’t the information Vader really wanted to know. He stepped closer so his face hovered right above the glass. They were now staring at each other eye to eye. 

“I am most interested in hearing about your new padawan,” he said slowly. “Tell me, how is my son doing?”

_~ SilverDaye_

* * *

Even through the mist of the bacta, he could see her start, eyes widen, before she regained just enough clarity of thought to hide her reaction. But it was too late; his smile widened, too wide, and he knew he’d hit home.

“Luke Skywalker…” he mused aloud, ignoring the way his voice nearly cracked on the name; his vocoder betrayed none of it. “His potential puts his father’s to shame.”

She… frowned at that, wincing; her gaze suddenly snapped to his, that pleading look back again, and he scoffed. This was not paternal pride talking, as proud as he was that _his son_ had managed to achieve so much even blinkered by the idiocy of the Jedi. This was a fact.

“He will make a great Sith.”

She closed her eyes again, hope gone. He took a step closer.

“And you will tell me where he is, so he can achieve that greatness,” he informed her. She stayed silent, unmoving, lekku drifting around her in the bacta. She’d have looked peaceful were it not for the furrow in her forehead. 

She said nothing. That was alright. He knew how to motivate recalcitrant prisoners.

“You will tell me what I wish to know,” he said, “or the new Rebel base on Atollon will be wiped from the face of the galaxy, and there will be no survivors.”

Again, he smiled. He could not sense her anguish in the Force, but he could see it on her face.

“I trust you will make the correct decision.”

_~ SpellCleaver_

* * *

He left her then - she had several more hours to go in the bacta tank, and there was nowhere she could run in the meantime. Perhaps a little time alone would let her stew in her fears sufficiently to motivate her to make the right decision. When he came back, she’d just been let out of the tank, and she surprised him greatly by immediately saying: “Alright. I’ll tell you where he is. Perhaps you are his only hope, because your son is in mortal danger.” 

And that made him consider his options all over again.

_~ Amylion_

* * *

If Vader could, he would have held his breath. Ahsoka seemed to enjoy this new power; that he wanted, needed to hear what she knew so badly that he would have stood there until she said it. It had been fifteen years, fifteen, and while that was so _much_ time, it was also so _little,_ because the boy was fifteen and he was _in mortal danger--_

“ _Tell me,_ ” he snarled, and a small crack appeared in the tank. “NOW!”

He had had _enough._

“He…” Ahsoka took a shaky breath. “I tried to stop them, I tried, but there were too many, I--” She broke off. “You won’t want to hear it.”

“Tell me.” 

“You won’t, given your history--”

That stopped him. “My _history?”_

“All right. But we’ve accepted that this isn’t my fault?”

Grudgingly, Vader had to admit it. She’d been unconscious when they found her. 

“Yes,” he said. “For now.” 

“Okay.” Her eyes met his through the glass, sharp and determined. “Your son has been captured by slavers.”

_~HeartOfStars_


	8. Chapter 8

_The ornate collar felt suffocating around Luke’s neck, as though the gold vines had come to life and were constricting around his windpipe._

“ _Papa_ ….” he tugged at it, and when the stiff, crisp material didn’t so much as budge, he groaned again: “Do I have to wear this?”

His father’s breath rasped harshly, as it always did, but it always seemed heavier on Empire Day too; when his hand landed on Luke’s shoulder to guide him into the nearest room, that was heavy too.

“Fix your collar,” his father ordered instead of _answering his question_ , “and don’t come out until I say.”

Before Luke could say _Papa_ again there was a snick in the door, the turning of a key and he shouted it instead: “Papa!”

“Stay in there, I said,” his father growled, over the sound of… a lightsaber— _his lightsaber!_ —“or when he realises what is happening, Palpatine might come for you too.”

“What is happening?”

His papa didn’t answer; he was already gone, and Luke wondered why he suddenly felt so scared.

_~ SpellCleaver_

* * *

“Papa?” he whimpered into the darkness; there was no answer. He couldn’t see anything, he only knew where the door was but he couldn’t even see that. His voice shook. “Papa?” 

No answer. 

The dark was pressing in on him, and it was _cold._ Desperate, Luke ran forward to the door. Maybe it would open this time. He had abilities, maybe it would open for him. He pushed.

The door did not open. 

“Papa!” he shouted, pounding on the door with his fists. He couldn’t see anything. Tears streamed down his face; he couldn’t help it. “ _Papa!_ ” He pounded harder, willing his father to come back and protect him, screamed. “PAPA!” 

Usually his father was here. His father was always there to help him, he never wanted to leave him alone; he was a big, warm presence, worried, but always present, always there for him. Picking him up when one of the Inquisitors defeated him in training, soothing his pain--his father was always there. Now he was gone. 

_“I am here because I love you, little angel,”_ Papa always said. What did that mean? Did that mean...Papa didn’t love him anymore?

Had Papa left him here, to die, because he didn’t care about him? Just like Palpatine, and everyone else?

The thought was unbearable. Between that and the cold, his body shook. 

“Papa,” he sobbed, sliding down to the ground. His voice was hoarse from screaming; he barely noticed it. “Papa, please...” 

A moment later, there was a scream in the Force, and then something died. 

The collar prevented Luke from noticing it--he kept sobbing, curled in on himself on the floor of the tower cell. 

All he knew was that his Papa was not coming back. 

_~ HeartOfStars_

* * *

And then the door opened, but it was not his Papa who entered. 

“Young prince,” the Emperor cooed, as he entered the room. “I’m afraid this glorious day has become a day of mourning. I’m afraid I must bring you the news that your beloved father has died, protecting me against a cowardly rebel attack.” 

He didn’t speak for a while, to let his words sink in. “Do you wish to avenge him?” he then asked.

_~ Amylion_

* * *

“Avenge him?” Luke whispered. “What does that mean?”

Palpatine knelt down and put his hand on his cheek. Luke wanted to lean away, but he didn’t dare. He stayed frozen in place, barely able to breathe.

“It means that very bad people killed your father, and they need to be punished. Don’t you want that?”

Luke wasn’t sure. Nobody liked to get punished. The Emperor’s thumb was still stroking his cheek; Luke didn’t like the sensation of his nail scratching his skin, but he didn’t know how to tell him without being rude.

“I want my Papa,” he said again. Tears gathered in his eyes; he tried to hold them back, to be strong, but it was difficult and he was afraid. The collar was still itching around his neck, and his tummy felt wrong.

The Emperor made a little sad smile, but something in his eyes made Luke ill at ease.

“Your father will not come back, boy,” he replied. “He is dead.”

Luke shivered. 

_~ Azalea_

* * *

“I--I need to think.” He’d meant it to sound firm and commanding. His Papa always sounded sure, even when he wasn’t. He made everyone listen...but Luke sounded strangled and small. 

Palpatine’s nail dug into his cheek ever so slightly, and he flinched. “How disappointing.” He crooned. “What would your father think to hear that his beloved son had to _think_ about avenging him?” 

The collar dug into his skin. “I--” 

“What if it was you the Rebels had killed? Do you think he’d stop to think?” 

He didn’t know. His head was swimming, and the collar was tightening around his neck…

“I don’t know…” he gasped. 

Palpatine dug his nail deeper into his cheek. “Don’t you _love_ your father?” The disappointment in his voice was painful. “You must not if you have to _think_ about avenging him.” 

_~LadyVader_

* * *

“Then…. then... “ Luke gulped and looked up at Palpatine. He didn’t like that nail being in his cheek. He wanted him to take it out.

“Still can’t decide? My, my. Perhaps your father was right when he said you were only ever a disappointment.”

He blinked and he couldn’t see for tears. 

Maybe he was right, then. That his papa didn’t love him anymore.

But Luke still loved him, so— so—

“I— I’ll do it,” he said.

Palpatine raised an eyebrow. “Do what?”

“Avedge him.”

“ _Avenge_ him,” Palpatine corrected, but he was smiling. “And good, good. The perpetrators of this _horrible_ attempt on my life have all been dealt with… except for one. It would be fitting for you to inherit your father’s legacy by destroying his killer, wouldn’t it?”

Luke didn’t know, but he nodded anyway. Palpatine took his hand tightly, painfully, in his cold, clammy one and walked him out of the room Papa had put him in, walked him to the big, chilly throne room Luke never liked visiting. 

Palpatine’s red guards were there, around someone in black, with dark, horrible-looking binders around his wrists—Luke craned his neck to see, and he thought they didn’t look like a human. An alien, then? An alien killed his papa?

The person was white and bald like an egg, pasty, and had scar tissue all on his face. When he heard them approaching, he turned and glared and Luke flinched back into Palpatine’s legs. Palpatine put a hand on Luke’s shoulder; he was too frightened to shake it off.

The person’s eyes were yellow, like Palpatine. But… they changed? When they saw Luke, they went a weird blue.

“Luke,” Palpatine said. He sounded happy. Luke’s papa was dead, why was he so happy? “ _This_ is the assassin who killed your father.”

_~ SpellCleaver_

* * *

Luke stared at the creature on the floor, terrified. 

This was the thing that had killed his papa. This was the creature that _he_ needed to kill, that somehow he needed to be _strong enough_ to kill. If this thing had killed Papa, how did Luke know it wouldn’t kill him too?

He couldn’t do it, he knew he wasn’t strong; but he had to. 

“Here, Luke,” the Emperor said to him, gentle; but he placed the lightsaber hilt in Luke’s hand firmly, in a way that Luke knew he must take it. And then, then hands were at his neck, cold and clammy and intrusive but they were undoing the collar, letting it fall--

In an awful rush of power, his abilities came flooding back.

“Now.” Palpatine’s voice came behind him, in his ear, just a whisper. “Avenge your father. He would be happy, I think, to see you do this.”

Luke looked at the creature. Its eyes burned with hatred, an awful rage...and then they slid towards Luke. 

They softened. _Please,_ they seemed to be saying, _please…_

The abilities were still rushing over him, his mind still growing accustomed to them; Luke could barely think. He was confused, and he wanted his papa. But he couldn’t have him. 

“Now, Luke.” 

Like the click of a lock, everything snapped back into place. Now he felt strong. Now he felt angry. And now...now he felt the thing in front of him, reaching toward him--

He gasped, stumbling backward, into Palpatine, but he didn’t care. 

The creature in front of him _was_ his papa.

_~ HeartOfStars_

* * *

“Do it, Luke. For your… papa,” Palpatine urged him on, but now Luke knew, he could hear the hunger in Palpatine’s voice. “Do it!” he shouted as time elapsed and Luke still just stood there, looking at his papa’s real face, and now he saw it: there was sadness in his eyes.

Luke turned around and looked up, at the Emperor, his face distorted by the onset of rage. 

“For my papa,” he said solemnly, and he would never be able to explain it later, but the sheer weight of his feelings of the past hour would have been enough to make the entire palace tremble, to lay ruin to the streets below, to leave the entire district smouldering, but right now it sufficed that the man before him was _gone_. And so he avenged. 

But Palpatine somehow knew before Luke could transform his intent into action what he was about to do, and the strangest thing happened, but blinding lightning shot from his hands and hit Luke full in the chest. He screamed. It was excruciating. But it only added to his anger and fear and despair and the sadness, the beginning of a grief that hadn’t fully set in yet, and then… it stopped, and it was Palpatine who was screaming. 

Eventually everything was quiet again. The Emperor was dead, and it was Luke, the unlikely victor, who still stood, his father, now uncuffed and a little worse for the wear, but undeniably very much alive, behind him, a dark armoured arm thrown around his middle, the broad shoulder cushioning him. 

“Everything will be alright now, son. You did so well today.”

_~ Amylion_


	9. Chapter 9

_"No! Stop, please! You have to hear me first, please, don't -"_

The boy’s plea was cut off by gags and his hand scrabbled for his throat, face purpling.

“Why are you on my flagship, padawan? What are you planning?”

The boy looked up, pale eyes flashing, and spat, “I didn’t have a plan; I just heard you were here, and I came.”

His gaze was steady on Vader’s as he whispered, “I’m Luke Skywalker, and I’m here to rescue you.”

_~ SpellCleaver_

* * *

“You do not need to rescue _me_ , boy,” Vader said after a minute of silence, to cover the shock at finding his son alive. 

“Yes, I do!” Luke rubbed at his neck. “Palpatine is going to kill you! Or, he’s going to pretend to kill you! He’s going to frame you for something, and then he’s going to expect you to beg for your life! I was in the vents over Tarkin’s office and.” 

“Clearly security must be seen to,” he said, but his mind was swirling with unpleasant implications. 

“He was telling it to that guy, Krennic.” Vader stared at the padawan’s bright, earnest face. “I know who you are or...who you were! I can’t let you die!” 

“Who do you intend to rescue me?” The Sith wondered how his son could be so foolish...and so caring. 

“I rigged the Death Star to blow! You and I sneak off before, and then you’re free!” 

_~ planningconquest_

* * *

Vader stared. 

Clearly, security _definitely_ needed to be tightened up. 

“When?”

He couldn’t believe he was asking the question. He should be throttling the boy and forcing him to explain how to defuse the bomb--or _bombs._ Because there had to be multiple, to blow up something the size of the Death Star. Right? 

But this was his son. As misguided as he was, _this was his son and he’d never expected…_

“We don’t have much time! We need to _go!”_ The boy was practically bouncing on the balls of his feet, making him look much younger than he was. 

Force... _nineteen._ His son would be nineteen…

But he was tasked with defending the Death Star. Krennic and Tarkin could be dealt with without destroying the entire battle station. Yet if this was orchestrated by his Master…

Well. It wouldn’t be the first time. 

Still. His son he didn’t really know how to deal with, especially when he’d apparently introduced himself with the most Skywalker-worthy plan he’d seen in a long time. 

_~LadyVader_


	10. Chapter 10

_Anakin looked at his stump hand as his lightsaber tumbled into the darkness, amazed a young boy could beat him so easily even with the power of the dark side— but then Palpatine’s apprentice said something that rocked the Jedi to his core._

“Help me,” he whispered.

Anakin stared at him, bewildered. The boy had disarmed him, cut off his hand - although it was just a prosthetic he knew he would be able to replace, so there was no great harm done - only to ask him for help?

He knew he should have refused. He knew the boy was Palpatine’s apprentice, that he had probably been taught all the manipulation tricks his master knew, that he was aware of his greatest weakness and could exploit it easily. This whole duel, he had tried to keep his distance, to not let the boy get to him.

But then, perhaps that was why his son had felt forced to go to such lengths to get him to listen.

“What’s happening?” he couldn’t help asking. He knew Luke had turned to the dark side, that his little boy was gone, corrupted by the Emperor, but it was impossible to stay away when he was looking at him so pleadingly.

Against his best judgement, Anakin rose, took a step closer and put his remaining hand on his son’s shoulder. Luke leant into his touch, looking at him with something like hope in his gaze.

He was probably making a mistake. The boy could use this in so many different ways; _Palpatine_ could use it to undo him completely.

But he found himself unable to care when his son seemed to be in such distress.

“I’ll do anything I can,” he promised softly. “I’m here, Luke.”

Luke gave him a tiny smile.

_~ Azalea_

* * *

“Anything?” 

His voice trembled. Anakin’s heart ached for his boy. What had Palpatine done to him? He couldn’t even imagine…

“ _Anything.”_ He replied fiercely, his grip tightening on his shoulder. “I’m not leaving you again.” 

Wind whipped around them. Below, Cloud City opened up into a chasm that disappeared into darkness. 

There was longing in his son’s golden eyes, eyes that he was certain flickered blue. “I’m sorry.” 

Sorry for cutting off his hand? For torturing his sister? For letting Naboo blow up? For single handedly killing hundreds-- _no,_ thousands of soldiers? 

Anakin didn’t even know where to begin. 

But first thing’s first...he needed to get Luke to safety. 

At least, that was the plan, before Luke’s lightsaber suddenly lit, straight through his side. 

_~LadyVader_

* * *

Anakin gasped, the reaction hurting almost more than the wound itself did, and staggered back. Luke dropped his lightsaber with a clatter; for a moment Anakin thought it would roll off the side of the gantry and follow his own lightsaber into oblivion, before it came to rest solidly in place. 

Anakin staggered back, clutching at his side and _staring_ at Luke, his son, his little boy—how had it _come_ to this? Why hadn’t he tried harder to rescue Luke from Palpatine’s clutches when he had the chance?—as he slipped and fell _hard_ , onto the metal decking, Luke fell to his knees next to him, and even now Anakin didn’t think his tears were faked.

His eyes were definitely blue, now.

Luke summoned his lightsaber back to hand and Anakin grunted as his son pressed it against his sternum. “One blow,” he rasped out, “not enough for you?”

“Be quiet, Dad, and listen,” Luke hissed. It was _unnerving_ hearing his son’s imperious, commanding Sith tone mingle with _Dad_ on his tongue. “That wound will not be fatal, so long as you get to medical in time—”

“And how,” he scoffed, “am I going to do _that_ —”

“—but shut up and listen, because _Palpatine is watching_. You’re my last test, and I—” His hands wobbled on the lightsaber; Anakin wondered if the tears on his face were for his precious master’s benefit, for Anakin’s benefit, or merely an outpouring of emotion. “I _can’t_ , and I have something to tell you.”

“And you couldn’t have told _Leia_ —”

“ _Leia_ ,” Luke interrupted, “has escaped. I spoke to her; I let her go. And now I’m going to kick you off this gantry and let you fall to your death, and she’s going to catch you at the bottom.”

“Luke…”

“He’s building a new Death Star,” Luke whispered. “The construction site is at Endor.”

Then Luke kicked him, hard, and Anakin fell forever, the stump of his hand jammed under his armpit and the distant image of two Sith staring down at him—one in black, cackling; one blond, distraught—branded onto the back of his eyelids.

_~ SpellCleaver_


	11. Chapter 11

_"Turns out the life-support didn't agree with the EMP, he's down all right," the lieutenant said with a satisfied, grim smile, but Luke wasn't listening anymore, and only stopped walking when he saw his still form on the ground, surrounded by rebel soldiers._

“No,” he said. He ran towards his father, but he was stopped by the soldiers.

“It’s okay, Commander. He’s down, you don’t have to worry about him.”

“You don’t understand,” Luke said. “He’s on our side! He was only protecting me!”

He tried to free himself, but the grip on his arm got stronger.

“What do you mean?”

Luke bit his lip. He didn’t want to disclose his relationship to Vader, or what had transpired between them; he was pretty sure that it would be counter-productive right now.

“Commander, he’s responsible for countless crimes: mass murder, participation in genocide, wanton killing of civilians and prisoners, torture, destruction of civilian property, accessory in the destruction of a peaceful planet…”

“I know,” Luke cut him off. “But he should stand trial. You can’t let him die like that, it’s not right. He was about to surrender!”

The soldier hesitated for a while, but after a last disgusted look at Vader’s unmoving shape, he finally caved.

“Fine. Put him under minimum life-support and make sure he’s restrained,” he ordered his men, then turned back to Luke. “Only for you, Commander. If you ask me, he should be shot like a rabid dog, and that would already be too much of a mercy. He’d do far worse to any of us.”

Luke could only nod in gratitude, relief and guilt warring with equal strength in his stomach.

~ _Azalea_

* * *

It was probably the first time in his life he had consciously - against better hope, despairingly - made use of his status as the Death Star destroyer, and the Rebellion’s Jedi. But it had in the end gained him entrance to the best protected holding cell. He was terrified - he had no idea what to expect.

“Father,” he said, and despite his best efforts, his voice trembled. “Was it true, what you said back then? Are you really?”

~ _Amylion_

* * *

The man he saw before him was not the monolith of evil he’d witnessed throughout his time in the Rebellion, slaughtering and torturing and slaughtering some more—all to get… to him. 

Apparently.

All of it, for years: Hoth, Bespin, everything after and in between… had been… for him?

“Was it true?” he repeated. “ _Are you really Anakin Skywalker_?”

And Vader just stared blankly at him, boldly, as if that was the most foolish question in the world.

“I am not Anakin Skywalker,” he said. “But you are asking if I am your father, and the answer to that is yes.”

But at that, Luke turned away. “That’s not possible,” he said simply, and left.

~ _SpellCleaver_

* * *

Luke would come back. He was sure of it, he’d felt the boy’s craving for his father, had felt the connection between them whenever they were close to each other. But time went by, and Luke didn’t come back. At first he thought in terms of days, then it became weeks. He couldn’t remember he’d ever been alone for such a long time, no officers, courtiers or troops crowding him. A few times a droid had come in to supply him with nutrients, but it hadn’t spoken, and so he’d undergone the procedure in silence. There was nothing he could do. He’d been stripped from the most vital parts of his armour, and now here he lay withering away, hooked up to external machines to keep his blood circulating and oxygenated, powerless, unable to sit up even, leave alone stand. There was nothing to do but wait, and slowly, with the passing of time, all his other thoughts became unimportant, until only one sang in his mind, keeping him company. Eventually his son would come back, he was sure of it. Eventually. He would come. 

***

“Has he… asked for me?” Luke asked. It was always his first question after the initial briefing when he’d been away on a mission for a longer period of time.

“He hasn’t spoken at all,” was the customary reply.

Luke nodded, his face betraying nothing. He’d been waiting for so long now. 

~ _Amylion_


	12. Chapter 12

_Luke glared, “Don’t look at me I’ve been here handcuffed this whole time.”_

Han squinted at him, not letting down his guard for a second.

“Yeah, well,” he said, “that usually doesn’t stop you. I still remember your trick with Threepio on Endor.”

Luke huffed a laugh, looking down as he remembered this particular instance.

“That was different,” he said. “How about you free me first and then I explain? This isn’t especially comfortable.”

Still looking unconvinced, Han nonetheless put his blaster back in his holster and started working on the restraints holding his friend.

“Not that I’m criticising your methods, kid, but how did you take down _an entire base worth of battle droids_ and still not manage to free yourself from some old Imperial-era cuffs?”

Luke grimaced.

“Well, these seem to be special cuffs. I can’t use the Force. With two Sith at the head of the Empire, I guess it makes sense they designed stuff to keep Jedi restrained -”

“What?” Han frowned, confused. If the cuffs prevented Luke from using his powers… “But then how -”

Han was interrupted by a familiar flurry of bleeps, and turned around to see the little astromech strolling inside the cell, bumping against Luke’s shins.

“Hey, bud,” Luke greeted him. “Thanks for the help, you came in right on time.”

Han gaped as Artoo let out a smug whistle, then short-circuited Luke’s cuffs which fell to the ground. Luke rubbed his wrists in obvious relief before thanking Artoo with a pat on his dome.

Of course. He must have found a terminal into the mainframe controlling the battle droids. Han shouldn’t be surprised. That droid was more resourceful than all of them together.

“You two are gonna give me grey hair before I turn forty,” he shook his head.

~ _Azalea_

* * *

“You mean you don’t already?” 

Han shot Luke a glare. “Ha, ha. Very funny.” Luke’s answering smile didn’t reassure him. “So Artoo explains the battle droids. But what about the restraints?” 

Luke grimaced. “Turns out my father made some enemies and they’re more than happy to take it out on the next Skywalker.” 

“Yeah, you’re gunna have to narrow that down.” Though he supposed Force-suppressant cuffs should have narrowed it some. They couldn’t have been easy to aquire, but Han barely knew the basics of what his friend could do, let alone someone with that kind of access. 

Thankfully, Luke didn’t comment on his lack of knowledge. “I don’t know her name. But she’s apparently pissed about the Emperor’s death.” 

Han frowned. Okay, that sort of narrowed it--actually, no. No it didn’t. He was debating on asking for more information when a smooth voice drawled, “Well, well, Skywalker. You brought your smuggler along for the ride.” 

~ _LadyVader_


	13. Chapter 13

_“Now…fulfill your destiny, and take your son’s place at my side!”_

Luke closed his eyes, despondent and resigned, and let his head rest against the ground. His wrist was throbbing where his father had cut off his hand; he couldn’t tell if it was bleeding or if the blade had cauterised it. He didn’t really want to know, either.

This was it. He was going to die, and by his own father’s hand. How long had he secretly longed for his father to come and save him, to spirit him away from the Emperor’s stifling hold?

But rage and resentment had overwhelmed him upon realising the Jedi was still alive. Each of Anakin Skywalker’s attempts to reach out, Luke had violently rejected. _You weren’t there when I was small_ , he had thought, thinking back on his lonely childhood years, when there had been nobody but Palpatine, no love, no care, just the terrifying dark side of the Force. _You weren’t there when I needed you most, and now you want me to give up everything, to put myself in danger, to trust you just so your pitiful Rebellion can win this stupid war?_

And so he had pushed his father away. He’d hurt him again and again, testing him, wondering how long he would still try before abandoning him a second and last time. He’d brought him to the Emperor, here, above the Endor moon.

He didn’t know what he had hoped. He had been deliberately searching for Skywalker’s limit; of course he had found it now, by idling threatening a twin sister he didn’t even know, a second child who was doubtlessly infinitely better than he was. Of course his father was going to kill him to protect her, to choose her over him, even though Luke had never truly intended to harm her.

 _A twin sister._ It made Luke want to weep for the family he could have had, for the life he was denied.

He braced himself for the pain as he heard the tell-tale sound of the lightsabre moving above his head, the frightening buzz followed by - the swish of a deactivation?

“Never,” Skywalker said.

Luke opened his eyes, disoriented; the Emperor laid at the bottom of the steps, cut in twain. His father was looking at him, answering Palpatine’s words, but addressing it to Luke. Hope awakened in him, growing and swelling despite his efforts to crush it.

His father’s mechanical hand was being held out to him, his lightsabre back on his belt.

“It is at _my_ side my son belongs.”

~ _Azalea_

* * *

“Father,” Luke gasped. “Father--”

“Hush, Luke.” Anakin--his father, _his father_ had come for him, he couldn’t wrap his head around it--ran to Luke’s side, dropped to his knees. “We can speak later, we don’t have much time--”

“But…” Luke swallowed, tasted blood; more threatened to bubble upward in a cough, but he avoided it for his father’s sake. He was accustomed to pain; he could tolerate a little more. “You--” He closed his eyes, unable to focus. The additional wound in his side throbbed. “Why?”

“Because--” Anakin sounded at a loss for words. Luke felt him hovering there, inches away, but he did not touch, did not reach out; perhaps he was afraid to. “Because you’re my son. Why would there be any other reason?” 

Luke opened his eyes. Anakin was holding out his hand. 

“Come with me,” he said. “Palpatine’s body--”

“I know,” Luke whispered. How could he explain it, that he did not deserve to come with his father? That he had planned to die here, on the Death Star, and he was going to do so? 

He bowed his head. “I can’t.” 

A hand touched his head; soft, tender fingers ran through his hair, and he wanted to sob, to give up and throw himself into his father’s arms. Anakin Skywalker, the man he’d dreamed of all his life, the father he’d dreamed of--come to save him. 

“Then I will carry you,” Anakin said softly.

Luke knew he should be angry then, but he couldn’t bring himself to. His hand burned, his side throbbed, his heart ached...all he wanted was rest. All he wanted was a father who would love him. 

Even if he didn’t deserve it. 

~ _HeartOfStars_

* * *

When his father picked him up, he felt strangely detached from his own body. His lead rolled limply back, and he was staring at the ceiling. His father must have noticed, because the jolting movements stopped briefly and he was shifted until his head was resting against his shoulder. 

He closed his eyes, the rocking and jolting of his father’s movements the only thing anchoring him to consciousness. How long had he dreamed of this? Of being held in his fathers arms? Of closing his eyes and resting his head on his father’s shoulder? 

Maybe he was dreaming. Maybe this was all some twisted trick of Palpatine’s. He’d see his deepest desires and when he woke, there would be hell to pay. His brow furrowed and he tried to think of something else, anything else, to change the dream, but it remained. Worse, he heard his father’s labored breathing, felt it on his skin. 

He was too heavy. They wouldn’t make it. If this was real, they’d both die. 

His father didn’t deserve that. 

He tried to squirm free. 

~ _LadyVader_

* * *

“Don’t you dare, son,” Anakin ground out, and then lowered him, only to bend down and look him straight in the eyes, much closer than he’d expected - gosh, his eyes were blue like his own, and he wanted to never look away from them, but hearing his father’s voice was even better. “Listen, things will not be easy. There will be hearings, a lot of talking and confronting the misery of our pasts. But don’t give up now, son. Not now. You’re not alone anymore.” 

Luke would have smiled had he still been capable of it, at this huge misunderstanding of his father - if he did give up, it was for _him_ , just being in the arms of his father was more than he’d wished for, he was good. And with that sweet realisation he let himself be carried off on the stream of unconsciousness. And so he didn’t hear Anakin cry, or feel him picking him up again, no, he was good. And he did feel sorry for the father he’d always wanted, whose anguish screamed out in the Force right now, but it really was better this way. 

~ _Amylion_


	14. Chapter 14

_"Now...fulfill your destiny, and take your son's place at my side!"_

Anakin stood frozen, grasping his still-lit lightsabre tight in his hand, but not daring make the slightest movement.

This was a nightmare. This was the worst possible outcome. This was everything he had hoped would never happen.

Luke was kneeling, disarmed and too weak to move, shaking like a leaf after the onslaught of lightning the Emperor had just unleashed into him. The only reason he wasn’t curled up on the ground was because of the hand clutched hard into his hair, forcing his head up so his father would see his tear-streaked face, the grimace of pain on his features, the trickle of blood running from his temple down his jaw from where he had hit his head earlier, when the Emperor had disarmed him.

The only reason Luke was still alive, Anakin knew, was to serve as a bargaining chip against him.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this, he thought in horror. Anakin was supposed to _save_ his son from the Emperor’s evil service and return him at his side, from where he had been stolen. He was supposed to free him, to bring him to safety and happiness, not to cause him more pain.

He looked into Luke’s pleading eyes, and his hand trembled as he deactivated his lightsabre.

“Father, no!” Luke yelled, before letting out a hoarse scream as another flash of unnatural blue light ran through him. The sound rattled through Anakin’s very bones, and he fell to his knees at Palpatine’s feet.

_I’m sorry. My son, I’m so sorry._

“I’ll do whatever you ask,” he whispered, feeling sick and wretched, tears streaming down his face, too. “Just let my son go. He’s just a boy.”

Luke let out another sob as Palpatine’s lips widened in a triumphant smile.

~ _Azalea_

* * *

“ _Father_ …” Luke whispered, and Anakin had to look away from his eyes, bluer than anything he’d ever seen. Palpatine released his grip on his hair and Luke tipped forwards, limbs trembling. Anakin caught him before he could hit the ground and cradled him to his chest, feeling Luke’s blood seep, warm and sticky, into the front of his shirt; hear the hitch and cry of breath when Luke’s severed hand bashed the floor.

There were wires sticking out of it. Palpatine’s precious apprentice had already lost his right hand, before he turned on his master. How had it happened? When? Who had done it?

“Good, my apprentice,” Palpatine said, and it was an uncomfortable shock to realise he was talking to _him_ , not Luke. “Draw on that anger. Use it, to serve your whims—and mine.”

Anakin shuddered. Luke shuddered with him, face buried into his chest, eyes scrunched closed.

“I… will do whatever you ask,” Anakin repeated mechanically.

“Indeed, Lord Vader.” And _then_ Anakin flinched, hearing the name he’d cast off so long ago, sworn never to use again. Palpatine summoned Luke’s crimson lightsaber to hand and held it out to him. “But after your betrayal all those years ago, I am afraid you will have to prove your dedication to the dark side, first. A test, of sorts.”

Anakin accepted the lightsaber. Luke sobbed.

“I will do whatever you ask.” The words were a lifeline: to save Padmé, to save Luke. He would do whatever he asked.

They were a lifeline, and a reminder, as Palpatine smiled—“I know you will”—and lifted his gaze to something, or someone, behind him.

~ _SpellCleaver_

* * *

And then the unthinkable happened, because out of the shadows stepped his daughter, the girl of whose existence he’d known only a year, conveniently briefly after she had disappeared. And there she stood, the red blade alight, and her ready-stance was… more than ready. 

“Leia, no!” Luke cried out. 

But her gaze was fixed only on Anakin, on the ex-Sith, and she stepped forward, sword raised high - 

And then in a perfectly elegant turn she twisted, and beheaded the Emperor. 

~ _Amylion_

* * *

With a flick of her wrist, the body of the Emperor toppled off the throne. Leia sat down on it and crossed her legs. She tilted her chin up as she looked down at Anakin and Luke. 

“Leia?” Luke asked. His voice shaky.

“ _Empress_ Leia,” she corrected. 

“You don’t really mean to . . .” Anakin said.

“Mean to _what_ ?” Leia snapped. “Of course I do. You wanted me to watch as my father and brother kill each other for _that_ man’s perverted enjoyment?” Her eyes flicked down to the corpse. 

Anakin felt the fight leave his body. He felt tired, so very tired. He looked at his battered and bruised son to the corpse of Palpatine and back up to his daughter. 

“Now what?” he asked. 

- _SilverDaye_


	15. Chapter 15

_“To answer your questions. This baby I hold is Padme’s son. Your nephew and grandson.”_

“May I hold him?” Sola asked.

Carefully, Obi-Wan held out the baby for her to take; she nestled him in her arm, smiling at his sleeping face.

“The father was that young Jedi she brought on Naboo once, wasn’t he?” Jobal asked. “What was his name again?”

“Anakin,” Sola murmured. “She kept denying it, but it was so obvious.”

There was a second of mournful silence, grief permeating the air, regret and incomprehension for all they weren’t told, all they didn’t know, all they would never know and could never be told, the missing pieces of the story the dead had forever taken with them.

“She called the baby Luke,” Obi-Wan whispered, barely daring say it, sorrow choking his voice. “Luke Skywalker, but…”

“It will have to be Luke Naberrie, for his own protection,” Sola said. “Luke. It is a beautiful name. It will be good for Ryoo to have a little brother.”

Obi-Wan absently nodded, relieved to hear it. Luke would be with family, hidden in plain sight; he wondered if it was really wise to have both twins in places that would be in the Empire’s scrutiny, if his original plan to send Luke on Tatooine wouldn’t have been safer.

But the smiles on the Naberries’ faces alleviated some of his worry.

 _May the Force be with him, with them, and with us all_ , he thought, his own lips curling up sadly.

~ _Azalea_

* * *

“Luke, I’d like you to meet someone.” 

Luke Naberrie peered around his mother, shy; he could not understand why she had interrupted his lessons for this, and he did not want to get introduced to yet another senator’s child. 

But the girl that Mama was talking to looked pretty enough, he decided. She had long brown hair, and she was wearing a white dress that blew gently in the breeze--

“Hello?” The girl was talking to him, Luke realized, and he stopped staring. “I’m talking to you, laserbrain.” 

“Oh.” Luke was taken aback, not knowing what to say; he had not met many girls in his life, at least outside his family; and this one was fiercer than most. “I’m sorry, I--”

“Is that how you meet strangers? You don’t say a word, you just stare at them?”

“I--”

“It’s okay, I’m kidding.” 

“Luke, this is Leia Organa,” said his mama, who appeared to be struggling severely with her laughter. “She’s...she’s nine, just like you.” 

Luke and Leia smiled at each other. 

“Nice to meet you,” said Luke, attempting for some politeness. 

“You have a sticker on your butt,” said Leia. 

~ _HeartOfStars_

* * *

Luke’s face flushed bright red, and he whirled, grabbing at his unseen back end. “ _Where?!”_

Now his mama was definitely laughing, and Leia crossed her arms, watching him scramble. “On your _butt_ I already told you.” 

He managed to find the edge and peel it off, and he cringed at the cartoonish tooka cat smiling back at him. How long had that been there? He scrunched it up in his hand and shoved it in his pocket. 

He suddenly didn’t feel like playing anymore…

But Leia seemed to already have forgotten the incident. “Wanna play tag?” 

He narrowed his eyes suspiciously, then glanced at his mama. She was now back under control and she nodded. “Go on. I have important business with Senator Organa.” 

He didn’t know who that was. Leia’s mama or papa? He was already starting to brush it off. Adult stuff was boring anyway. “Okay, sure--” He began, but no sooner had the words left his mouth, she was smacking him on the arm. 

“ _Tag!” s_ he shouted, then bolted away. 

~ _LadyVader_


	16. Chapter 16

_"Now kneel, boy," Vader said as he pointed the tip of his red lightsaber at Luke's throat._

Luke swallowed, keenly feeling the uncomfortable heat of the blade so close against his skin, but his gaze didn’t falter for a second as he held Vader’s own.

As sole answer, he gave a wordless roar, swatting the blade aside with his own and lunging at the dark lord once again.

Unfortunately, despite all his efforts and his rage, he was still greatly outmatched; with a mere step forward and a flick of the wrist, Vader sent his lightsabre flying out of his hand and Luke tumbling on the ground, lying on his back, the red light threatening him again. He closed his eyes, knowing what was to come and having no choice but to resign himself to it.

It was why, when after deactivating his weapon and holding out a hand to help him on his feet, Vader squeezed his shoulder and told him how much he had progressed instead of the usual criticism, Luke couldn’t help his smile of delighted surprise.

~ _Azalea_

* * *

That sort of praise was rare enough that Luke was still buzzing about it several days later, a wide grin automatically coming to his face when he picked up his lightsaber. Lord Vader was busy greeting some visiting dignitary to the ship—Luke had heard rumours of an _emperor_ , though he doubted that; why would Palpatine leave cushy Coruscant to come all the way out to a warship engaged in the Outer Rim, no matter who its commander was?—so he was left to train himself, run through his exercises, for the morning, and he did so with zeal: swinging his lightsaber made him feel _proud_ , made it easier to tap into the mystical energy field all around him.

Made it easier to feel that cold, creeping presence when it arrived at the training room door, flanking by the familiar rasp of a respirator.

“Ah, so you must be young Skywalker, Lord Vader’s newest and most talented protégé,” the Emperor— _kark_ , it actually _was_ the Emperor here—said. His cane tapped threateningly on the floor as he approached; Luke threw himself into a belated bow. “I have heard much about you.”

Really? Luke eagerly glanced up at his teacher, still in the doorway. He’d been proud enough to speak about him?

But at that excited gaze, Vader turned away, and Luke was left with a pang in his chest, wondering why in all the stars Vader looked so…

... _tense_.

~ _SpellCleaver_

* * *

All excitement fled away. 

“Thank you, your majesty.” Luke replied politely, trying not to sound disappointed. 

The Emperor stared at him, with such scrutiny that it was an effort not to squirm under that amber gaze. Funny. He didn’t remember the Emperor’s holos showing such unnerving eyes. 

“How old are you, boy?” 

He swallowed his pride at being called boy. “Nineteen, your majesty.” 

“Ah.” He nodded knowingly, then briefly turned to Vader. “You lost your own son nineteen years ago, didn’t you, Lord Vader?” 

~ _LadyVader_


	17. Chapter 17

_ Durasteel knees dug pits into sun-batted sand, the former Jedi's robotic hands laid flat and open to the air. "Obi-Wan." He huffed out, the first time he'd heard his own voice in years.  _

The mask laid discarded a little further as Anakin struggled to breathe, rising eyes he knew to be a clear blue to his once master’s gaze. Obi-Wan’s face bore too many emotions to be readable, but he remained standing with his arms open and his blade drawn in front of the young boy shyly clinging to his left leg.

“Please just let me see him, that’s all I ask,” Anakin rasped, feeling his breath become more and more laboured.

Obi-Wan hesitated one more second, then turned off his lightsabre and relaxed his stance. He came forward and bent forward to put a hand on Anakin’s back; immediately he breathed easier.

“I can’t heal you, your wounds are too severe,” he said, “but I can grant you a few minutes before you need to put on the mask again.”

Anakin supposed he should have thanked him; but he could hardly think about it when his gaze remained set on the boy in front of him.

“Luke,” he croaked, holding out a hand towards him. “Come to me, my son.”

The child remained frozen in place for a few seconds, his eyes wide and terrified. He threw a hesitant look at Obi-Wan, who nodded; then he finally came close enough for Anakin to touch.

Taking care to move slowly in order not to startle him, he gently cupped Luke’s cheek, his thumb stroking the pale skin, hoping the contact of the metal on his son’s face wasn’t frightening him. His throat closed up, this time more naturally as tears filled his eyes.

“You’re really my father?” Luke whispered.

“Yes, Luke,” Anakin replied, beaming as warmth overcame his chest, as he beheld in wonder the face he had believed lost forever.  _ Here he is, here is my son, alive and well. _ “Yes, my little one, I’m your father, we are reunited at last.”

Luke’s eyes widened even more. A smile came up on his own face, and he threw his arms up and around Anakin’s neck.

Feeling he might burst with emotion, Anakin carefully brought his arms around Luke’s small body and closed his eyes, relishing the sensation of the boy’s warm presence next to him as he held him close against his heart.

~ _ Azalea _

\------------------------------------------------------------------

His son was still a toddler, so very young, all was not lost - even though  _ he _ lost the world when his beloved died, when she  _ died _ , died - the memory echoed in his head forever. But here was the son she’d been sure they’d have. It didn’t last long, this moment that was worth a lifetime, as he began to choke after mere seconds, and as he replaced the mask he was so very aware of the distance it created between them. But apparently Luke had a will of his own, and wasn’t afraid as was customary, but came closer, and threw his tiny body against him, and cried, and said: “Daa!” 

“We must go now, little Luke,” Obi Wan then spoke firmly, and he would have destroyed worlds to delay this moment if only he’d had the strength right now.

~ _ Amylion _

But it was Luke who began to panic. “No!!” he shrieked, reaching for his father. “ _ No!”  _

Anakin’s heart tore to shreds. He wanted nothing more than to keep his son with him, but the war was not over. It wasn’t safe. If the Emperor found out he was alive, and that Anakin had once more turned… 

He couldn’t imagine it. 

So he tried to smile, as painful as it was. “It’s okay, Luke. I’ll be back. I promise.” It was a foolish thing to promise. Every day there was a chance he wouldn’t make it back. 

But he promised anyway, and even with the odds stacked against him, he meant it. 

~ _ LadyVader _


	18. Chapter 18

_Leia’s friend Pooja had graciously given them full run of the villa. It was in Luke’s best interest to make the most of it, there were next to no chances in the rebellion to hide out in such luxurious surroundings._

There were many chances, Luke realized as he jolted upright in the middle of the night to see a blue figure in a beautiful gown, plenty of chances for ghosts. She looked like Pooja, a little bit older and a little sad, and her intense focus on Luke had him drawing his blanket up to his chest as a matter of habit. 

“Erm,” this wasn’t like the ghostly apparition of Obi-Wan, who would speak and offer vague, frustrating advice. He watched her approach the bed, and settle on the side. It didn’t dip beneath her weight. “Hello?” 

“Hello, Luke.” Her voice was as soft as the wind through the windows, the tears on her cheeks as bright as the stars above. “My son.” 

~ _PlanningConquest_

* * *

. . . Son?

_Son?_

Did that mean . . . That this was . . .

The ghost smiled. It was warm and kind. Her hand raised and slowly came forward. Ghostly blue fingers touched his cheeks. He felt nothing at least physical, but in the Force he was overwhelmed. Overwhelmed with love, so much love, and pride and happiness and . . and . . . sadness . . . A deep sadness . . .

Tears flooded Luke’s eyes. He tried to hold back a sob as the tears ran down his cheeks. This was his mother.

“Moth-- mother,” he said. 

“Oh, Luke,” she said softly. “I am so proud of you, and I love you so much. And I have so much to tell you . . . And I feel like time is running out . . . It’s so hard to keep this form . . . to materialize here . . . “ Her form was slowly fading away. “Luke.” Her voice was growing softer. “There is good in him. He does love you.”

Who? Who was she talking about? She was nothing more than a blur of blue light. 

“Tell your sister . . .”

Her voice faded away with the last of blue light. 

~ _SilverDaye_ [   
](https://silvereddaye.tumblr.com/post/614178220356632576/leias-friend-pooja-had-graciously-given-them-full)

* * *

Morning came, and even though Luke hadn’t slept, he felt a little like waking from a dream. Tears were running down his cheeks still; he didn’t bother to wipe them.

But it must have been a dream. Luke didn’t have any sister. And who would be that _he_ his mother’s ghost talked about, the person who still had good in him? Luke didn’t understand.

He knew better than to claim she couldn’t be real, for he had seen Ben. But this was different, somehow; too ethereal, too nonsensical to be anything but his mind’s creation.

Nevertheless, the yearning melancholy and muted grief the ghost’s apparition had awakened in him didn’t leave him the whole day.

~ _Azalea_


	19. Chapter 19

_“Leia!” He scrambled down the hallway of the falcon, completely breathless. “I was searching on the holonet and I found-you’re not going to believe this-my dad had a tiktok account back in the republic days!”_

“It was called Vine, then,” Leia rebuked him as he came to a halt beside her. “They changed the name a while ago. “

“I found an Anakin Skywalker Vine Compilation!” Luke exclaimed, too excited to hear an obscure history lesson. He held out the holo triumphantly, and it started first with an image of three clone troopers and a teenage Fulcrum ten feet in the air, trapped in a huge net. 

“The first lesson, my young padawans,” Anakin’s smooth voice came through, hitching with laughter, “is that you shouldn’t fall an-AHWAK!” the image shifted suddenly as the Jedi was yanked into the air by a similar trap.

“AN OBVIOUS TRAP, SKYGUY?” Ahsoka called, laughing at Anakin. 

“Shut up,” the Jedi responded, without heat. “I meant to do that.”

~ _PlanningConquest_

* * *

Darth Vader had spies in the Rebellion. Many spies, so when he received word that _somethin_ g of Anakin Skywalker had survived, he was not happy. Least of all because it happened to be a stupid video he and Ahsoka had made when he was young and foolish and _weak_.

“Scour this account and all its like from the holonet,” he ordered. The officer he’d assigned the task to swallowed.

“My lord, it is already done.”

Vader could hear the _but_ in his tone. He didn’t bother to say anything—his mood was already foul from the lingering pain from his punishment after Yavin, mere weeks ago, and this was not helping—and just glowered.

The officer got the hint. 

“There… is at least one hard copy being kept, by one man—boy, really—in the Rebellion, who seems to be fascinated by the Jedi. He is on Intel’s radar since he supposedly destroyed the Death Star—”

“Then why have I not heard of him before?”

“Intel thought that— that it was a cover up. The boy is barely nineteen, had never flown out of atmosphere or in an X-wing before; it was likely one of his associates who did it, but the Rebels may be trying to mislead us—”

“Nevertheless. Give me his name.” Anyone who associated with Jedi should be hunted down—

“L— Luke Skywalker,” the officer said, and gulped at the drop in temperature. “My lord.”

~ _SpellCleaver_

* * *

He breathed on steadily, but only because the air was forced into his lungs - and he hadn’t been so acutely aware of how unpleasant that sensation was in years - and his heart didn’t accelerate, but how he wished it still could, but it took a few moments before the machines in his chest picked up on his shock. 

“Are you absolutely certain?” he said, and to the hapless officer his voice sounded unchanged, while on the inside he raged. 

“Yes, My Lord.”

"You said he held on to the holo?”

“Affirmative, My Lord. He’s had it for several weeks now.”

It had to be his son, collecting mementos of Anakin Skywalker. It couldn’t be a coincidence. And he was oddly touched, that his son would want a connection with his father enough to hold on to such a silly thing. Perhaps he could use that.

~ _Amylion_


	20. Chapter 20

_Hondo couldn't see her face under the mask, but he didn't think Enfys Nest looked too happy as she walked up to him._

“Is something the matter, Enfys Nest?” He asked as if he didn’t have Luke Skywalker standing by his side, as if the boy wasn’t also angling a blaster in her direction. “You know, we are such friends, but even friends give a little warning before they arrive.” Her mask turned to Luke, who hadn’t moved and hadn’t spoken. During confrontations, Luke liked to let Hondo dig himself into holes he had to blast his way out of. 

“Luke Skywalker,” she said, holding out a hand that held a short cylinder. “I come from the Rebellion. We are in grave need of your help.” 

“Enfys!” Hondo exclaimed, “you cannot take my grandson!” He slung an arm over Luke’s shoulder. The former moisture farmer hadn’t moved, his blue eyes focusing on the woman with alarming intensity. 

“Do you wish to honor your father’s memory,” Enfys asked, and without waiting for a reply, ignited the blue blade in her hand. The color reflected in the hungry, desperate expression in Luke’s eyes. His eternal weakness, his parents. Hondo didn’t need Luke to speak to know that he’d already lost his young crew-member to the rebellion. “The Jedi need you, Luke Skywalker.” 

~ _PlanningConquest_

* * *

Very slowly, Luke reached out his hand, lowering the blaster, and Enfys eagerly extinguished the blade to hand it over. His hand wrapped around the hilt; he held it too tightly, far too tightly, his knuckles going white the way human knuckles did sometimes. Hondo tried not to frown as he watched.

“Don’t look so serious!” he told Luke, wrapping his arm around his shoulders and making him start so much he nearly dropped the lightsaber. “Look at you, like you’d seen a ghost! Have no fear. It is only the lightsaber of your dead Jedi father, the only memento you have of him, and comes with the promise that you will take on an impossible crusade against an almighty empire!”

Luke did not smile. Enfys was looking at him hopefully.

“I want to join,” Luke said finally, looking at her, clutching the lightsaber closer to his body. And looking at her.

Hondo knew the boy was lost.

DIdn’t mean he had to accept it.

“May I have a few, heartfelt words with my grandson?” he asked with a sweep of his hand. “Before I wave goodbye to the greatest member of my crew forever?”

The other members of his crew, watching the exchange with some curiosity and sympathy, gave him a look.

Enfys rolled her eyes. “Go.”

~ _SpellCleaver_


	21. Chapter 21

_“No matter how much he tried to hide it, Luke was limping, and Vader was not impressed.”_

“You will not make this climb with your legs as injured as it is,” Vader observed, and then glanced at the winding mountain path that would take them to the launch pad where a Clone Wars Era bunker was waiting with a ship that would take them off this desolate planet they’d both crashed on. 

“I’m fine,” Luke bit out, drawing away, and the hissing as he jostled his leg, “I’ll make it fine.” 

[Just pick him up and be done with it] Artoo ordered, Luke glanced over at the droid, wondering what he’s missed. 

“That is the wisest course of action,” Vader agreed, and cross the distance between himself and his son. The boy tried to slip away but only fell off the boulder and into Vader’s open arms. Hoisting him into a comfortable position, Vader ignored Luke’s protests and carried him up the mountain.

~ _PlanningConquest_

* * *

“This is awkward” Luke bit out after the first few meters. 

It was strange being carried in the tall mans’ arms; and quite weird to look at his mask up close, from this angle.  
Vader only tilted his head to look at him for a moment before turning back to the tricky path ahead. There were several large boulders that had tumbled down the mountain, making the path rather inaccessible. But his father didn’t seem particularly bothered by that, instead he gripped Luke tighter and just - leapt.

An undignified yelp escaped him upon the sudden forceful movement and he instinctively wrapped his arms around his father’s neck.  
They landed surprisingly gracefully on the other side of the obstacle and continued on their way up towards the launch pad.

And a small part inside of Luke, one he wasn’t ready to fully acknowledge yet, kind of enjoyed getting carried like this. Even though it was quite awkward.

~ _Yell_

* * *

After a moment, Luke hesitantly pulled his arms away from the Sith Lord’s neck. He tried to read his father’s emotions, but he was met with a wall, completely cutting him off from doing so. He gulped, realizing that if he made him angry, all he had to do was squeeze...or run his lightsaber through him, or…

“You will come to no harm.” Vader suddenly said, and at the glower on Luke’s face, he added, “You need to work on your shielding.” 

Nevermind that no one had ever taught him to do that...but a horrible thought occurred to him. Had...had Vader sensed his enjoyment of being carried…? 

“You are a little old to enjoy being carried.” 

Horror washed over him and he again started squirming, this time to hide or find a rock to crawl under to die from embarrassment. 

~ _LadyVader_


	22. Chapter 22

_Vader's stare, despite the mask, was so clearly unimpressed he felt like shrinking into the ground._

Luke wondered if there was a way to prove that this wasn’t his fault? Yes, he was a rebel. Yes, he had blown up the Death Star and spent the last few months a-reasoning and then gotten captured and brought to the Palace. Yes, he had tried to kill Vader in the past. But no, he wasn’t the reason that Emperor Palpatine was slumped over the table, a dinner fork stuck through his throat. 

~ _PlanningConquest_

* * *

“It was an accident, I swear,” he said lamely.

Vader didn’t reply, simply regarded the scene, hands on his hips, the cape widening his normally impressive silhouette even more, and Luke felt tiny. He wasn’t per se afraid to die, not really, although that would probably be the most reasonable reflex. 

“I know it wasn’t your fault, young one,” Vader eventually spoke, surprising his very young apprentice.

“The Force is capable of many things, and you and I should talk at length. Come with me.”

~ _Amylion_

* * *

Luke had no choice but to follow. Vader hadn’t seemed overly threatening, but who knew what he was planning for him?

He couldn’t deny he was somewhat shaken. Not because he killed the Emperor, no; if anything, the man’s death only brought him relief. But that he’d done it unconsciously, on accident… that was frightening. Killing the Emperor of the galaxy was something, but Luke would hate to be the reason for one of his friends’ death... 

“What you fear will not come to pass,” Vader said, and Luke jumped. Had he just read his mind? “Not if you let me teach you.”

Luke bristled.

“Let _you_ teach me?” he asked, bewildered, and not bothering to hide the hostility in his tone. “Never. I’d rather die than join your side.”

Vader stared at him, the black mask towering above him, similar to how it had always looked; but for some reason, it didn’t seem threatening. Rather, Luke thought it looked _weary_ , as if Vader had just sighed, and wasn’t that a strange thing to imagine?

~ _Azalea_

* * *

“There are many things you don’t know, young one.”

Luke gritted his teeth angrily. “I know enough.”

Vader seemed decidedly unimpressed. “Really? Then tell me why I haven’t killed you?”

“You-” Luke stalled, unsure. “You want to use me, you want me to join you.”

“But you’d rather die than join me, so why aren’t you dead?” He poked him in the chest. Luke took a step back, frowned and rubbed the spot. 

Luke was confused, it didn’t make sense. It actually made no sense. Vader had no reason not to kill him.

“You are a potential threat, a perfect scapegoat for the death of the Emperor, yet I haven’t killed you, why?”

“I don’t know!” Luke yelled angrily. “I get it, it makes no sense not to kill me.”

“But it does, Luke.” 

And Luke couldn’t help but be caught in that masked gaze, there was some kind of emotion he was getting off him that he couldn’t make sense of.

“I will never kill you. I suggest you figure out why.”

With that Vader turned around and left a severely confused Luke in his wake.

~ _Mokulule_


	23. Chapter 23

_With the lock finally picked, Luke opened the dusty chest that had been hidden by his uncle and was surprised to find it filled with holodiscs all labeled to Luke._

“Son,” he turned on the holo-disk labeled one. Uncle Owen looked older and more tired than Luke had ever seen him. He looked like he had just days before the Stormtroopers had murdered him. “I know an I haven’t always seen eye-to-eye on a lot of things, and I understand. I always sorta did, son. I,” the older man paused, and Luke sank to his knees, eyes blurring as he watched his uncle lap his hat against this thigh and fight for the words. “I love you, Luke. I hope you know that. Which is why I left this box for you. This box is the collected history of the Lars’, the Whitesuns, and the Skywalkers. It’s for you to add your family to when…if you have one. But…I guess I ought to start with yours, Luke.” Now, Uncle Owen hesitated. 

“It’s okay, Uncle Owen,” Luke whispered, brushing tears away from his eyes and onto the sandy floor of the remains of the homestead. 

“I’ve been lying to you, Luke,” Owen said plainly. “Which you already knew…probably. Anakin Skywalker wasn’t a freighter pilot. He was a Jedi, and that’s dangerous right now.”

“No, kidding,” Luke whispered. 

“You can’t go blabbing this to everyone, son. It’s not safe, which is why I never told you. Your mother was named Padme Amidala.” Luke started, he’d heard the name in conjecture with the first rebel. The fact that she was his mother was new. “She was a rich politician of sorts. She and Anakin came to the homestead, and the next day your father brought back…Shmi.” Luke reached up to cover his mouth. “She helped with the funeral…and you look a bit like her.” Owen Lars swallowed hard. “With the Empire out there, son…it’s dangerous to know this. It got them killed, son. Just,” the message was nearing its end, Luke watched frantically through the last few seconds. For the final words of the man who had raised him. “Be safe, Luke, and two is a message from Beru.” It went dead, and Luke stared helplessly at the now quiet holo-disk, tears still dripping from his face. 

~ _PlanningConquest_

* * *

“I met your mother once,” the voice of Aunt Beru sounded, “And the older you got, the more you reminded me of her. And I remember the way she looked at your father, even though… they weren’t easy times, when they visited, Luke. But know this: your parents loved each other dearly. There are things I shouldn’t know, and shouldn’t tell you, but you, dear Luke, do know this: not everything is as it seems. Don’t blindly believe an old Jedi’s word. Your parents loved each other very, very much. And you are like her. Never give up.” 

~ _Amylion_

* * *

Luke stared at the two holodisks without seeing them for a long while. He knew there was a lot of other material there for him to explore, that his roots were there, recorded for him, who had longed to know about his family ever since he was a child. But he couldn’t bring himself to open them. Tears were streaming down his cheeks, sobs quietly shaking his chest as his guardians’ voices resounded in his ears, fresh again, as if he’d seen them for the last time only yesterday.

So much of it made sense now. His once frustration had found its answers, more terrible and dangerous than even his overactive, bored teenage imagination could picture. That knowledge had shaped him, moulded him into who he was today through pain and doubts that were the result of his own recklessness, but that he couldn’t bear himself to regret.

He wished he could have talked to them about it. It was so easy to see their faces and imagine their reactions, although he could never know for sure now. Aunt Beru would smile and tell him she was proud; Uncle Owen would grunt, clap a hand on his shoulder, and tell him he was glad he lived.

Had it only been three years since they were gone? It felt so much longer than that…

Three years Luke had spent moving constantly, fighting with the Rebellion, running after the elusive mystery of his birth parents. There hadn’t been time to breathe or mourn, always a new mission, always new worries to think about.

Now that it was all over, now that Luke had found his father and lost him again, he found himself coming back here, where everything began. He was incredibly curious about his mother, and would definitely ask Leia about her, begin a new pilgrimage to learn about the beautiful, kind but sad woman she’d had dreams about.

But all of this he would do later. He had chased after his birth family for so long already. Now, he would take the time he hadn’t taken then and grieve for the parents who raised him, for the humble farmers who had given him a home and all the love he could hope for, even if he hadn’t truly appreciated it then.

And so Luke breathed in the familiar air of the homestead, and wept.

~ _Azalea_


	24. Chapter 24

_Luke let out a delighted squeal as he turned and ran as fast as his chubby little baby legs could go. Which was still far too fast for Vader's liking. Especially considering the child had Vader's lightsaber clutched tightly in his hands._

“Luke!” Vader bellowed. 

The baby only squealed and kept running. 

Vader sighed and started to march after him. 

“Young one, stop.” 

Luke only kept giggling and running. He had reached the door of the sitting area and turned down the hall leaving Vader’s sight. Vader could of course still sense his renegade son in the Force. He lengthened his strides so he could reach the hall faster. Just as he put his boot down into the hallway, he heard a small voice.

“Uh oh ,” Luke said. 

It was followed by a familiar snap-hiss and Vader’s heart beating out of his chest.

~ _SilverDaye_

* * *

Vader thought the pacemakers in his chest would give out under the strain. He never ran but he did now, throwing himself down the corridor. Luke had apparently made it all the way to the front door— _where_ that boy had been trying to go he had no idea, but _that wasn’t important right now—_ and… there was someone at the door.

The door was open, and there was someone standing there, picking Luke up and holding him so tightly he was grimacing in pain, wriggling the lit red lightsaber in his hand and vanishing into the folds of their robes…

And Vader stared as Luke was dropped, hard, and scrambled away… leaving Vader’s lightsaber still buried up to the hilt in Palpatine’s stomach.

~ _SpellCleaver_


	25. Chapter 25

Wheezing, gagging, trying to suck in a breath Luke’s eyes bulged wide, staring at the monster who had him by the throat, and although he clearly had more pressing matters at hand to worry about, he briefly wondered what he’d done wrong in a previous life to constantly find himself in situations like these. Less than forty-eight hours ago, he’d taken off his military fatigues for what must have been the first time in years, and dived into the crystal clear lake. Less than twenty-four hours ago he’d believed he could actually get used to this vacation thing. Heck, it was only twenty minutes ago that things began to derail, as he’d found out during his morning walk that this planet was not quite as abandoned as they’d thought, in fact, that the lake and beach he’d declared the ultimate holiday spot were a sacred site, not to be disturbed at any cost, and that the native species whose sanctum it was, were rather… large, and not opposed at all to the consumption of larger mammals, of more or less Luke’s size. 

And so he didn’t understand when he was suddenly, unceremoniously dropped, although it all fell into place when the rushing in his ears had subsided and he heard the all too familiar mechanical breathing approach, so very out of place in the fresh forest air, at what could be described as a leisurely pace.

“It pays to educate oneself on any local peculiarities before going planet-side, young one, as any military commander should know,” that dark voice spoke, not quite unamused. 

~ _Amylion_

* * *

Luke had fallen on his knees and now hastily stumbled to get up and salute.   
He probably looked very ridiculous.   
“Yes, Milord, sorry Milord” he stuttered, his mind still trying to catch up on the events that had just unfolded. Lowering his hand again he earnestly expressed his gratitude.   
  
“Thank you very much for saving me, Milord.   
Uhm…. if I may ask, what brings you to this planet. It’s so far off from anything important.”   
  
His Supreme Commander merely stared at him for a moment before briskly striding past him, away from the lake. “Follow me, officer”

Luke hastily gathered his things and prayed to all the deities he knew, that Vader now didn’t believe him an utter fool.

~ _Yell_

* * *

“Do you know _why_ the locals consider this lake a sacred site, Commander?” Vader asked after they’d been walking for a short while. Luke _had_ been trying to stay quiet and unobtrusive, the way any military commander with the honour of serving on the _Devastator_ would when his position was on the line, but ignoring Lord Vader was even more dangerous than not annoying him.

“I… don’t, my lord,” he admitted. He could’ve chosen _any other planet for his vacation, why didn’t he choose any other planet_ —

“This area is strong with the Force, young one. It is the site of an old Jedi, then Sith, Temple, which the Emperor has sent me to investigate. Your help in this matter would be appreciated; you have skills that will be useful, in this case.”

“My lord?” Luke stared out at the lake. He didn’t know wha _t the Force_ was, but— “I am a commander of a _pilot squadron_.”

“I know, young one.”

“And my name is Commander Skywalker.”

That mask tilted down to look at him, and for some reason Luke felt like Vader was smiling.

“I know that too, young one,” he said. “now. Come with me.”

~ _SpellCleaver_


	26. Chapter 26

Vader barely dared to reach out a hand and rest it on Luke’s cheek, but… he was real - he was *real*. “You’re alive,” he spoke, and although the vocabulator was not equipped to convey something as delicate as reverence, Luke nevertheless understood it was meant that way, and although the reason behind it escaped him entirely, he knew rationally that at that very moment, lightyears away stars were born and others died, cosmic events of a magnitude that went beyond their understanding did not stop from happening, but the fate of their galaxy had now changed for good, and it was that simple touch of cold leather against his cheek that had sparked it.

“Erm… Yes?” he answered, not quite sure why he wouldn’t be - he’d been racing these things since forever after all, and this was hardly the most dangerous track he’d tried his hand at. Having Darth Vader loom over him and looking at him as if he were the universe’s birth crystal in the flesh, on the other hand, was a deeply unsettling experience. 

“There is much you do not know of,” the huge cyborg spoke after what seemed like ages of nothing happening, except for the constant tide of his breathing filling the void. “Walk with me, young Skywalker.” 

~ _Amylion_

* * *

And for a while they did, strolling in the dunes and under the twin suns in awkward silence. Several times, Vader tried to move himself to speak, to tell him the truth, all the truth - but there were too many things to say, and he couldn’t put the words in order.

Eventually, Luke was the one who spoke.

“So, uh, I don’t want to be rude, sir, but - who are you? How do you know me, why did you think I was dead?”

Under the mask, Vader smiled. His son was as bright as the stars above his planet, and curious too. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from him.

For all these years he’d thought him dead, grieved for him. And he could so easily have mourned for so much more time... 

Would he even have met him at all, if not for this?

“I was told you were,” he answered. “And then I heard tales of your podracing. Skywalker… it is a name I know well.”

Luke smiled, his eyes coming alight.

“It was my father’s,” he said, as if Vader didn’t know that, as if that little fact hadn’t shattered all he thought he knew and turned his life upside down. “You knew him? He used to race in Mos Espa, too.”

“I am aware.” 

Something struck Vader then, memories of his condition back then, and an awful thought occurred to him.

“Speaking of guardians,” he slowly asked, not knowing very well how to formulate the question, “where are yours?”

The shadow of grief that passed across Luke’s face was half of an answer, and for half a second Vader feared the worst. But he would leave no son of his in slavery, he swore; he would kill all his slavers and burn down the whole planet if it was what it took to free him.

“They’re dead. I’ve been surviving on my own ever since, racing and fixing stuff for money. I’m not a bad mechanic.”

It was a far more benign explanation, and calmed down some of Vader’s anger - yet not all of it. Fourteen years old was nowhere near enough to survive on one’s own. Vader didn’t want to think of what could have happened, hadn’t he discovered the boy entirely by chance, while investigating someone who was usurping his name.

It turned out he wasn’t much of an usurper after all.

Vader’s heart was thumping in his ribs, his breath painful despite the regulator. He wanted to blurt out the truth to the boy, wanted to tell him _everything_ , how much he had wanted to be a father, how much he’d rejoice to welcome him in his life, how devastated he’d been upon thinking he’d died. How much he wanted him in his life, still, yearned to be family.

But he wasn’t sure how he would be received, if he would even be believed.

“I have another option to offer you, if you are interested,” he said instead.

~ _Azalea_

* * *

Luke could scarcely believe it! A way off Tatooine! Becoming a pilot! For so long he’d only just managed to survive, getting off planet had been a far off dream put to rest with the deaths of his aunt and uncle. But then reality crashed down upon him. Nobody made such grand proposals without wanting something in return.

“What’s the catch?”

~ _Mokulule_


	27. Chapter 27

Coruscant, the hub and heart of the galaxy, was very different to how Luke Skywalker had always imagined it. Considering his frame of reference for cities up until now was Anchorhead, that wasn’t very abnormal, of course. Their shuttle broke atmo and joined the priority traffic lanes, and Vader felt a current of unease run through him at his son’s openmouthed look at the ecumenopolis. It reminded him of himself, when he as a child fresh from Tatooine had arrived on this planet for the first time. That seemed like several lifetimes ago, lifetimes of which he now couldn’t quite imagine anymore they were really his. But he did remember, that first look, the first time disembarking the ship and hearing all these unfamiliar sounds that would soon become an endless drone he barely noticed anymore, the soundtrack to his life as a Padawan. For a very brief moment, he felt a lance of pain - regret - piercing his soul, because his innocent desert child would be exposed to the same misery as he had been - the backroom politics, the backstabbers and sycophants, sucking up to him for his power. And he, his father, was willingly and knowingly inflicting this on him. But no, he reminded himself, it was necessary. It was the only way Luke Skywalker could survive in the end. And it was the only way _he_ could get to know his son. That sweet song of promise he couldn’t ignore. It was selfish, he was aware of that. But excused it by hiding behind feeble tales of destiny, and other soothsayers’ nonsense he’d quit believing in a long time ago. 

Poor Luke, that his father had so little backbone. That his father was secretly hoping his son would succeed where he had failed, and would be able to overthrow the treacherous emperor they would be bowing for within the hour. That he put such enormous expectations on his shoulders, while he was still just a child, whose twelfth life day was yet to come. But if Luke rose up, he would follow. He would be his son’s warlord, protector, anything he needed of him. If need be, he’d lay down his life. He just needed a little push. Yes, if anyone could achieve that, it was the fair-haired, blue-eyed boy sitting opposite him, who trustingly looked up at his dark father as he said: “Come, my son. It is time. The Emperor is expecting us.”

~ _Amylion_

* * *

Luke’s awe did not fade as they entered the palace, either; the ornate decorations Palpatine revelled in bedecking the Jedi’s formerly austere temple in were probably fascinating to a little boy from Tatooine in the same way the Queen of Naboo’s clothing had been. But Vader was too tense to truly appreciate his son’s… _innocence_ , in the one place where innocence would not serve him well—would see him fall prey to cutthroats and sycophants, in fact. So he held onto Luke’s hand tightly, for all that his son was eleven and did not appreciate being babied, even by his newly discovered father, and let the red guards escort them into the throne room.

Palpatine was there, of course. Palpatine was always there, it seemed, and now his greedy gaze was fixed on Vader’s little boy, and _Vader should not have brought him_.

But Luke would be the one to destroy Palpatine one day, he knew—he _hoped_ —and Vader wanted his son with him until that happened. Wanted his son with him, under _his_ protection, even if that was within Palpatine’s line of sight. 

They stopped. They knelt. And when Luke shivered next to him in the cold…

Vader hoped he would get used to it.

And he hoped he would forgive him his selfishness, when Destiny came with red hands and Luke understood exactly what his father had done.

~ _SpellCleaver_

* * *

“Isn’t this a familiar sight.” Palpatine sounded kind and grandfatherly, but Vader knew he was anything but that. But Luke...Luke was so young and innocent and _trusting…_

Vader would need to set expectations firmly once this was done with. 

“He looks just like you did at that age, Lord Vader.” 

Vader sensed Luke perk up, though he did not move. _Thank the Force._

“Thank you, Master.” Vader replied instead. They still did not rise, and Luke was starting to squirm, but he didn’t move just as he’d been told. 

There was a contemplative silence. Then, Palpatine beckoned. “Come, my boy. Let me have a good look at you.” 

He’d expected something like this, but to have Palpatine actually do it, to see Luke finally rise to walk to the deceptively shriveled, elderly man…

It took all of his will power not to stop him. 

~ _LadyVader_


	28. Chapter 28

_There were many, many reasons he hated sand, but right now the major one was its adverse effects on his prosthetic(s)._

His suit was painful for him on a daily basis; a constant agony, but one that was designed to make him angrier, and thus stronger in the Force, so he tolerated it. But the sand made it even worse than usual--seeping into the joints between the prosthetics, even just a few kernels able to aggravate his burned limbs and weak skin tissues--where the suit was usually painful, now it was a veritable torment. 

And yet even that, he would tolerate; because he could feel the presence of his _son_ here, very close to him. Much closer than he had anticipated, and he had thought he would never see him again. That he had fallen forever into the depths of Bespin, and then been snatched away by the will of the Force and the dratted Princess’s skill, and lost to him. 

But of course Luke would come here to free his friend; why would he not? 

Vader should have anticipated it. But now he was here, rounding a corner--the burning presence drew closer, and closer, the light shining out at him like a beacon, completely unaware--and then stepping downwards into a cave. 

The robed figure in the corner lifted its head, eyes going wide in terror and shock. The hood fell back, revealing shaggy blond hair, shorter than it had been before; and in the figure’s hands, the hilt of a lightsaber. 

“Hello, my son,” Vader intoned after a few moments. “Are you surprised to see me?”

~ _HeartOfStars_

* * *

Luke leapt to his feet, backing away deeper into the cave, but Vader didn’t budge from his position in the front of it; so long as he stood here, in the only entrance, Luke was trapped. The boy knew it too; he glanced from the astromech droid he’d been bending over, to the open desert behind Vader, and finally to—

Vader held out his hand and the lightsaber whipped towards him before Luke could light it—but it didn’t land in his palm. It froze in mid air.

Vader stared at his son, hand outstretched and expression tensed in concentration. The lightsaber hovered between them for a moment, then flew back into Luke’s hand; he caught it neatly and held it out to his side. Not threatening, but… ready to fight, if need be.

“Yes, I am surprised to see you,” he said bluntly. “And none too happy. We are here to rescue a friend. Why are _you_ here?”

Was it not obvious? Did the boy understand him at all?

“I’m here for you, Luke.”

~ _SpellCleaver_

* * *

“That’s nice.” 

Vader frowned. That...hadn’t been his expectation. 

Luke continued. “Now. If you’ll move out of the way, I have someone to help.” 

Certainly he understood the gravity of the situation? His son _knew_ him at least somewhat, right? 

Vader crossed his arms over his chest. “I will not _move._ You are my son, and you will come with me.” 

There was no room for argument. The boy was trapped, and had little to negotiate with. But Luke’s eyes narrowed and his jaw set. “Are you offering your assistance, then?” 

What? _No._ Had he gone insane? He was _Darth Vader_ and his friend was under Imperial arrest, which he supposed technically made her his prisoner… 

But the boy was pushing anyway...and Vader couldn’t help but be intrigued. What was so special about Organa that he constantly risked his life for her? And was Luke offering to give himself up willingly if he assisted him in her rescue? 

It was so bizarre, he almost wanted to see how it played out. It wasn’t like he couldn’t recapture her the moment it became a larger problem. 

~ _LadyVader_


	29. Chapter 29

At times like this Vader wished he could still yawn.

He had always found meetings extremely boring, whether as a Jedi in debriefing with the council, or discussing results with the board of officers on his own flagship like now. One would believe the imposing, _efficient_ Imperial Navy should be able to do without such idle chatter, such maddening, inane and pointless rehashing of information they already know.

He could not even strangle these men the Emperor prizes for good measure; no, he was reduced to hovering in a corner, making his displeasure known to the entire frightened room -

His irritated musings came to a sudden halt at the Captain’s next words.

“We believe we may have located Skywalker.”

~ _Azalea_

* * *

At the sound of the name that was the bane of the Imperial Navy’s existence, _everyone_ sat up and took notice. Vader even left his beloved corner to stalk closer, and the captain swallowed, his gaze automatically drawn to him.

Vader made an irritated motion with his hand. “Go on, Captain. Where is Skywalker?”

“We… have reliable information that suggests he was looking into his parentage,” Vader’s heart leapt at the thought, then plummeted at, “after he met an old friend of his Jedi father’s.”

That could’ve been anyone. Anakin had not had many _friends_ , but many had called themselves such, or known him; now that he thought about it, quite a few of the Jedi he’d known best had never been reported truly dead…

“But Captain,” Vader said softly. None of this mattered anyway; what mattered was _finding_ his son; _then_ he could undo all the damage that whatever this _old associate_ had done to his conception of the galaxy that the Rebels were not already responsible for. “ _Where is Skywalker_?”

Piett swallowed. “He went looking for his mother’s family, sir,” he said. “On Naboo.”

~ _SpellCleaver_

* * *

It only made sense for him to stop by the grave of his mother first. It felt respectful, even. He’d never known her in life, and Ahsoka had only shown him a few holos of her, but standing there at the doorway to her mausoleum…

He’d never felt more terrified in his entire life. 

What would she think of him, if she were alive and he was coming to meet her for the first time? Would she be proud? There was so much he didn’t know--about life. About the Force. About her and the Republic she’d held so dear. She’d done so much by the time she was his age, it made his accomplishments seem...insignificant. He’d blown up a Death Star. She was Naboo’s most beloved queen, a liberator, a _senator._

But she was gone. He’d never know. And now all that was left was a beautiful marble mausoleum…

He took a deep breath, and walked inside. 

~ _LadyVader_


	30. Chapter 30

Luke cradled his father's head in his lap, murmuring comforting words even though he didn't believe them himself.

“You’re all right, you’re all right, you can rest now.” 

Wheezing, Vader lifted a hand towards Luke’s cheek, but didn’t quite reach it; the young man felt a pang through his heart at the tormented expression in the bright blue eyes.

“Luke… my s-son… I’m s-sorry…”

His breath rattled and the prosthetic hand fell down, limp, loud and heavy on the ground of the hyperbaric chamber.

Numb, shaking all over, Luke finally found it in himself to rise, extinguishing the red light of his blade with one hand and wiping his cheeks with the other.

~ _Azalea_

* * *

He was unsteady on his feet at first, but when he managed it he staggered forwards, bracing himself against the side of the hyperbaric chamber and clamping down on his sobs. Not now. Not now.

His master would have sensed his father’s death. He had to report.

Not now. Not now.

His fingers fumbled with the controls to operate the comms unit within the chamber; after a moment, he realised he could put his lightsaber down, not just cling to it in desperation and disgust, and he clipped it back onto his belt. Selected the right buttons to press. Pushed away from the console.

He’d barely collapsed into a kneeling position, on his hands and knees lest he fall further than he had when he’d killed his own father, when his new master appeared on the screen.

“Is it done?” she said.

He nodded shakily, and—despite himself—smiled when he met her gaze.

“Yes, master,” he said. “It is done.”

~ _SpellCleaver_

* * *

“Excellent,” said his master, a razor-thin smile curving up her lips. “Most excellent, indeed. But, you must tell me something...” The smile vanished as quickly as it had come, replaced by burning anger in his master’s eyes. “ _How_ did he die? How was he?”

“I…” Luke could not help but be confused. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.” 

“Oh, of course not; you wouldn’t. Let me explain.” She leaned forward in her throne. “Was he sorry? Was he sorry for everything that he did to us? To me? To _you…_ ” Her eyes narrowed. “My son?”

~ _HeartOfStars_

* * *

Luke was silent for a minute before she scoffed. “Get up.”

He pushed himself to his feet, out of his kneeling position, to look her in the eye. He’d seen pictures of his mother from when she’d been a senator, not yet a Lady Vader then the Empress, still Palpatine’s protégée in disguise wooing over the Senate. She’d had brown eyes then, when she was hiding her true identity, but he thought she looked much more striking when she was being true: her amber gaze was far more piercing, far more intimidating.

She looked more like his mother, the most powerful woman in the galaxy. Especially when her glare softened, looking at his conflicted face.

Without saying anything, she stood from her throne and disconnected the contact. Luke knew not to move, so he stood there for what seemed like an eternity. His father had always been huge, but now it was even bigger; it stole all the space in the room, and he could see it no matter where he looked.

Which was what his mother revelled in, he knew, the moment she entered the chamber. Smaller than him but still very clearly more powerful, she marched right up to the body of her Chosen One husband and peered down at his face. The mask was off, his ghastly injuries exposed to the light of sight, and his blue eyes stared blankly.

She spat on him. Luke wasn’t even sure she was aware of the way she was touching her fingertips to her neck, the heavy rubies she always wore there.

“He tried to kill us,” she said to Luke. “He tried to kill me, and both you and your sister in the womb. Why do you mourn him?”

Luke’s slid his gaze back down to him—to the blue eyes. “I don’t know, master.”

“Mother,” she corrected. “I am your mother before your teacher.” She tilted her head, observing him further. “He did say he was sorry, didn’t he? For _everything he had done_. That is why you are so upset.”

Luke nodded.

She sighed, and turned from her perusal of her dead emperor husband to face him. Her gaze searched his face and she put her hand to his cheek. 

“You did the right thing, Luke,” she told him, and the certainty in her yellow eyes left no room for argument. He smiled. “You are sorry for it, but you did it, and I am proud of you.” Her gaze moved back to Vader, as always. “He will not threaten us again.”

“Yes, Mother,” he said. She ruffled his hair, then turned away, walking back to the exit.

“Throw his body in the trash compactor, then contact your sister—tell her to return from the Mid Rim campaign. We’ll need to hold a funeral, like we did for Palpatine, and you two—”

She paused at the door when she realised Luke had not followed. “Luke?” Her gaze had hardened, her tone clipped.

He shifted.

“Luke.” Her eyes sparked. “What is it.”

“Leia never joined the Mid Rim sieges,” he said. “She… defected, instead.”

~ _SpellCleaver_


	31. Chapter 31

"If I may be so frank, Sir, you are absolutely mad", said Veers holding eye contact with Lord Vader, while Admiral Piett looked like he was about to faint.

Vader stood motionless for several seconds, his breath resounding threateningly in the silence, but Veers didn’t back down. _Someone_ had to remind him of the reality of things from time to time. Lord Vader was known for acting ludicrously simply because of that Force of his, but trusting a Rebel to the extent that he had involved Skywalker in the operation was pushing it, even for him.

The tension in Piett’s shoulders was still rising, and Veers was starting to regret putting his friend in this situation, when something sounding suspiciously like a laugh escaped Lord Vader’s vocoder, to Veers’s bewilderment.

“Perhaps I am, General; what will you do about it?”

~ _Azalea_

* * *

“I _can_ do nothing, sir,” Veers said, and there was clearly an appreciation at Vader’s joking tone—at the fact he’d left him _alive_ —there but there was also the point that, well, their commander might be walking them into a trap based on nothing but his and Skywalker’s shared voodoo abilities. “But I recommend that we _do not_ take the word of a _Rebel Jedi_ over that of our own men—and our own men said that this operation on Felucia was a death trap.”

“If I may speak for myself?” Skywalker cut in, and Veers turned a distrustful glance on him. “I can’t make you trust me, and words won’t convince you; Force knows they wouldn’t necessarily convince Leia. But I’m asking now,” he held out his hand, “will you let me _prove it_ to you?”

Veers eyed the hand. Piett held his breath.

~ _SpellCleaver_

* * *

It was just a hand. Sure, Vader’s hands had strangled many a man, but even for a Rebel, Skywalker appeared innocent enough. 

It was just a hand. 

Before he could change his mind, Veers grasped the calloused hand, and _gasped_ as images not of his own flooded his mind. 

It felt like an eternity, but it was likely only a few seconds before Skywalker released him and the images stopped, leaving behind an intense throbbing in his temples. “Perhaps I should have warned you…” Skywalker mused with a thoughtful frown, and Veers was certain Vader snickered again. “So? What’ll it be?” 

~ _LadyVader_


	32. Chapter 32

Luke didn't know how wonderful love could be until he finally got the chance to confess his feelings to Wedge.

There hadn’t been much opportunity before, with his circle of friends being limited as it had been on Tatooine; an adventure or two at most, nothing serious. Luke didn’t have enough experience to be sure whether it truly was love he felt for his second, or if the intensity of battle and the threat of death constantly on their heels magnified everything.

It felt like it, though. Being with Wedge was as natural as breathing, as exhilarating as flying; they were similar enough to understand each other perfectly, while completing each other so they could rely on one another; they fitted together wonderfully, so well Luke had trouble, sometimes, believing it was true.

But it was, and despite all the close calls and the one-million shots, when they held each other on Endor after the Empire’s defeat with whispered promises and dreams for the future, Luke realised he hadn’t known how lucky he could be, either.

~ _Azalea_

* * *

But before they could do all that, it was important to show Wedge where he’d come from. Where it all began. 

That led them to the Lars homestead, where the farm that once bustled with rusty, half broken droids lay silent under the glare of the twin suns. 

“This is it?” Wedge asked, staring reverently at it. At the graves Luke had dug for his aunt and uncle. He wished they could have met him. They would have loved Wedge, he was certain of it. 

“Yeah. It’s not much but...it’s home.” 

Or it was. He felt different. The idea of settling into this life again was as foreign to him as a vast ocean had once been to the boy who’d lived here. It was so quiet, and they were alone, but...it felt intimate. He’d never felt so exposed. 

This was, after all, the side of Luke Skywalker very few people would ever know. Now Wedge would know, and he could only hope he didn’t suddenly view him as some naive farm boy who’d gotten lucky throughout the war.

Wedge took his hand, and Luke found him smiling sadly. “Do you want to show me around?” 

The tension fled Luke’s shoulders, and he smiled. 

~ _LadyVader_


	33. Chapter 33

Luke looked down at the small device; it fit perfectly in his palm and only had one button on it that when pushed it would stop all of Vader’s life support functions on his suit.

Intense disgust and rage rose in him, but he knew better than to show it.

“Why are you giving me this?” he asked, his tone carefully neutral.

“Why, my boy, Lord Vader has hurt you so much,” the Emperor replied, “this is a way for you to prevent that from happening again; do you not want to no longer have to fear him, to hold in your hands the power to vanquish him?”

Before Luke could think, his blade burst out and cut the Emperor’s head; he struck him again and again, one more blow, then another, too full of horror and outrage that such a device even existed to consider anything else.

“I am no _slaver_ ,” he hissed.

~ _Azalea_

* * *

Breathing hard and standing over the body of the Emperor, he eventually became aware of the hissing, rattling respirator behind him. Luke cast one last dismissive glance at the withered corpse and turned to face Lord Vader. 

“Has it always been like this?” Luke asked, adrenaline fading as he stumbled down the steps to where the black monolith was hunched over and curling inward on himself as if at attempt to protect the control panel on his chest. Vader didn’t look up, and Luke fell beside him, instinctively wrapping an arm over the enormous shoulders. 

“Yes,” the voice was weaker than he’d ever heard, the lightning damage made obvious. 

“Not anymore,” Luke promised, the ancient memory of his aunt had him doing his best to tuck the oversized helmet against his chest in an attempt at comfort. Palpatine had tried to erase Lukes’s memories of his aunt and uncle and had tried to raise Luke to be a monster like him. It failed, and no matter how wretched it had been for Luke, he had never forgotten what the Lars’ had taught him. “Not anymore.” 

~ _PlanningConquest_

* * *

“Why?” 

Luke hardly heard the question. They didn’t have much time. The respirator was wheezing; he was no expert, but that couldn’t be good. He lifted a surprisingly heavy arm over his shoulder, and with great effort he pulled Vader...not to his feet, per se, but into a position they could begin making their way to the infirmary. 

“ _Why?”_ Vader demanded again about halfway through the throne room. 

Luke tried not to breathe so heavily. Vader’s weight was exacerbating his own injuries. He’d survive, but he didn’t care to clue him in on how he was faring. So instead he answered, “I’m not a slaver.” 

They reached the throne room doors, and Luke threw them open with the Force. There were no red guards...a testament to how confident the Emperor had been in the success of his plan. He just hoped their luck would hold. 

“I’ve done...I…” 

Vader had done terrible things to him, to his sister, to his friends and the galaxy at large. But… “You’re my father.” He reminded him. “And I told you. There is _good_ in you. I know it.” 

Even now. Even after everything Palpatine had done, Luke believed it. After all, hadn’t Vader tried to stop Palpatine from killing him moments before he’d handed him the switch? 

“You...are a fool, my son.” But it was said fondly, and dare Luke hope, with some sense of _pride._ “You have made your aunt and uncle proud.” 

~ _LadyVader_

* * *

Vader was heavier than even his impressive frame justified, but just when Luke was about to collapse, he remembered: the Force was with them, and so he moved the former Dark Lord’s arm over his shoulder again, in what he hoped was a slightly more upright position that would allow him to breathe a little easier. And indeed, the ventilator’s whine quieted somewhat. 

“I only ever wanted to make my father proud,” he said, embarrassed despite the dangerous situation they found themselves in at admitting this painful longing, that he’d felt ever since he could remember; and afraid to admit such a deeply personal thing he’d never spoken out loud before to Vader, of all people. He may well be his father, but that was fairly new information and he didn’t really know him at all. But he had to say it, in case he’d never have another chance again. 

“I… am,” Vader said with difficulty. “Luke… there is not much time. You cannot stay here much longer,” he continued.

“What about you?” he asked quietly, heart in his throat. 

Vader was silent for a moment, then amended: “ _We_ cannot stay here much longer. Go… to my shuttle.”

Luke’s heart soared, and when they reached the shuttle at last, he understood Vader was right: it wouldn’t take much longer before the Emperor’s death was noticed, and then it was better for him, a former protégé turned rebel traitor, to be far away from this place. He helped his father onto the medical bunk, then flew them out of here. 

“We’re going to Mustafar,” Luke said when he returned to Vader’s side. Once he’d been terrified of that planet, now it was the first thing that had come to mind.

Vader tilted his helmet slightly in acknowledgement, but didn’t speak. Here, in close quarters, it was frightfully obvious how broken the respirator really was, its mechanical wheeze made Luke flinch. This was Vader’s shuttle though, and so it was equipped to help him breathe in an emergency, but Luke glanced at the fallen Dark Lord with hesitance, because that would mean…

“It is not… something I wish for you to see,” Vader spoke.

“It would be my father’s face, no more and no less than that,” Luke said stubbornly. “Or would you rather die of pride?”

“ _F_ _or you_ ,” the Sith said forcibly. “Don’t want to burden _you_.”

“Please, _father_. This is not the time to be stubborn,” and he laid his hand on the left shoulder, though he doubted Vader could actually feel it.

Eventually, he relented, and guided Luke’s hands in silence to connect the complicated machinery to the implant underneath the control panel on his chest. Once he was satisfied everything was set up correctly, Luke reached out to lift the helmet. It was just as heavy as it looked, he definitely needed both hands and even then he strained, and he wondered how his father could bear it. 

“Pull it… towards you, not up,” Vader instructed as Luke reached for the mask. It was harder than it looked, but eventually, after a few moments of careful exploration, he thought he understood the mechanism, and lifted it from the face underneath.

For a few moments he simply stared, until he remembered his father still needed the oxygen mask, and then he fumbled to fix it, cheeks heating up at his negligence. Vader was so pale the skin would have been translucent if it weren’t for the heavy scars adorning his scalp, his cheeks and lower, but immediately his gaze found Vader’s eyes again, and he couldn’t look away, completely mesmerised, because he’d never known that all this time, the eyes behind that mask were exactly the same as his own. 

~ _Amylion_


	34. Chapter 34

Luke’s eyes darted from the barrel of the blaster to Vader and back.

“Please, father,” he swallowed, struggling to keep his voice steady, “you don’t want to do this.”

Vader didn’t move, but the pike of _rage_ in the Force was so strong Luke couldn’t help a flinch; the troopers’ grip on his arms strengthened, the blaster threatening him coming closer against his temple as Vader took a step towards him, crowding his space.

“Neither did I want you to _betray me_ ,” his father said, his tone deceptively soft but full of such anger it took Luke’s breath away, “for your oaths of love and loyalty to be nothing but _lies_ you used to give information to the Rebellion.”

“Take him away,” he waved at the troopers before Luke could protest; the young man’s heart quickened, his chest tightening in dread.

“You will find out, my _son_ ,” Vader said in a tone that made Luke’s blood run cold, “exactly what kindness or mercy traitors can expect of the Empire.”

~ _Azalea_

* * *

Luke was marched down the hall roughly, numb and shocked to the core of his being. He could simply not believe it, couldn’t wrap his head around it, that his father, for whom family meant everything, had condemned him to this. 

The hall exploded around them and Luke was thrown to the ground. He coughed from all the dust and could barely breathe or see. His ears were ringing. Someone grabbed him, and pulled him to his feet. He could do nothing but follow blindly. 

Suddenly he was out in fresh air and he took deep gulps of air and blinked the grit out of his eyes. A stormtrooper was pulling him along, and they were surrounded by other troopers, but something was wrong. 

They marched him into a waiting Lambda shuttle and when the landing ramp closed, he could no longer hold his tongue. 

“Aren’t you a little short for a Stormtrooper?” he addressed the trooper that had pulled him along.

They scoffed and pulled off the helmet, revealing Leia Organa the most wanted criminal in the galaxy. Luke couldn’t quite help his jaw from dropping. 

“I’m sure there are worse disguises,” she remarked dryly. “Just can’t think of any right now, it’s no wonder they can’t shoot straight, you can’t see a thing in these buckets.”

She turned a piercing gaze on Luke, that reminded him uncannily of his father.

“Luke Skywalker, welcome to the rebellion.”

_~ Mokulule_

* * *

He stared at her. The fact that the Rebellion had bothered to risk it at all...to come for _him..._ the son of Darth Vader…

Sure, he’d given them good information these last few months, but he was still the son of the man they hated most in the world. 

“Why?” He asked as she practically shoved him into the nearest seat. 

“Now really isn’t the time to ask questions.” She replied pointedly. “Put your crash webbing on.” 

He couldn’t help it. The whole situation was so bizarre, he laughed. Leia Organa, telling _him_ to put his crash webbing on like she was his parent and he a wayward youngling? “Did you even think this through?” She ignored him, climbing into the pilots seat. “He’s going to _come for me.”_ He didn’t dare reach out through the bond with his father. He didn’t dare tell him where he was. 

“You’re a pilot, right?” Leia was already turning the ship on, beginning to run through the take off sequence. “This shuttle is better flown with a copilot.” 

She didn’t need to tell _him_ that, but he didn’t bother to say it. “Did you account for the tractor beam?” But he was already moving, even as he felt the _fury_ of his father, felt him searching for him, felt him trying to break through his shields… 

He didn’t want to leave. But he also had zero desire to get tortured. He’d wait until his father calmed down, then they could try again…

“Of course I did.” They lifted off and burst from the hangar. For some reason, it felt...natural. “Let’s just hope it works…” She muttered under her breath. 

~ _LadyVader_

* * *

The rise from the hangar was tense but went without a hitch, the shuttle giving correct identification codes and everything. Leia seemed to have planned this in depth, and Luke wondered if they’d known about his arrest in advance, if that had been part of the plan, too.

No _._ He wasn’t going to go there.

Luke did his best to shield himself from his father, who was still pounding against his mind in a rage that left him reeling. Never before had he felt him so furious; or rather, it had never been directed at him before…

It took all his strength to keep himself closed down and hold his emotions at bay; as soon as they entered hyperspace, his shields collapsed and the enormity of his situation came down on him.

His father knew that he’d defected.

His father knew, and had _arrested_ him, and had been about to _torture him._

Luke shivered, bit down on his lower lip and breathed through his nose around the lump in his throat. There had been no mistaking the anger in his voice. He had all but renounced Luke, had been ready to sentence him to the same horror and death he did all other insurgents, as if Luke was nothing else than another faceless Rebel…

Would he have gone through with it? Would he have been able to hurt him like that, repeatedly and with vicious purpose, to hold him down as he writhed and hear his screams unmoved, to get his own son’s blood on his hands…?

Luke wanted to believe he wouldn’t have, that he would have found himself unable to do it at the last moment, that he’d have calmed down and freed him eventually. 

But he knew better than anyone how devastatingly his father’s anger burnt when he was hurt… 

He cut down on this line of thought. It hadn’t happened, and it was for the best. His father’s anger would abate, and then Luke would be able to have a conversation with him, safely, from afar (and how the thought hurt, that afar was now the only way he was safe from him, after the fierce protectiveness he remembered). He’d make him understand he had never wanted to leave him, that he simply couldn’t stand by as Palpatine’s Empire hurt and killed more and more citizens each day but that it didn’t have anything to do with Vader, that Luke’s love was genuine…

Did his father really fail to understand that? When he’d _raised_ Luke, when he knew him better than anyone else in the galaxy? Did he really think the depths of Luke’s love could disappear that easily?

“Luke?” he heard Leia say next to him. He blinked, looked at her owlishly. He hadn’t realised how far in his thoughts he’d been. “Are you all right?”

He managed to dredge up a small smile for her.

“I’m fine,” he said, and wiped the tears on his cheeks.

~ _Azalea_

* * *

His son had escaped.

Vader knew that, and he knew that he needed to step up security on his flagship, that _Leia Org_ ana, most wanted criminal in the galaxy, had managed to make it on, but—

She wasn’t the most wanted _now_ , was she?

That honour was reserved for _his beloved son_ —

“Lord Vader!”

His traitorous, back-stabbing, beloved son.

 _So much_ , Vader thought, _like his mother_.

He turned to the officer approaching. “What?”

“My lord, the Rebel ship has jumped to hyperspace and—” Vader turned away, crushing the man’s throat with barely a thought; he dropped like a stone.

He knew his son was _gone_ , could feel his absence like a yawning void in his chest; he needed to know _where he was_ —

He turned to the nearest officer—Piett, it was—and his gaze instantly set the man talking. “My lord, we have already launched all possible methods of tracking them down again, the shuttle—”

“Have you calculated every possible destination along their last known trajectory?”

“The shuttle they stole had a tracker on it, my lord.”

Vader froze. “A… tracker?”

Piett straightened. “Yes, my lord. We believe they are making a course for the Arkanis sector—particularly Tatooine.”

_Tatooine._

Of course his foolish, sentimental son would return there.

And he would walk into a trap when he did.

“Set course for Tatooine immediately, Captain,” he commanded. “And contact the local Imperial garrison. We _will_ catch them in the very place they seek to flee.”

“Very good, my lord.”

Vader turned away, back to the viewport and the stars beyond it.

Luke could not run.

Luke could not _betray him, mock and lie to him, and then run_. He would catch him.

And when he did… 

An image flashed to mind: his son’s face, twisted in fear and agony, sobbing; Vader’s gloves, coated in blood; a white cell; a tightness in his chest until he thought it would explode… 

Vader clenched his fist. A hairline crack split the surface of the viewport, like a lightning bolt striking from the sky.

When he did, Luke would know what it meant to betray him.

Like his mother before him.

~ _SpellCleaver_

* * *

“Where are we going?” Luke asked Leia eventually. He couldn’t say he was really interested in the answer, but he wanted to break the silence - and stop the maelstrom of his thoughts.

“Tatooine,” the crime-turned-rebel-princess said. “It’s an Outer Rim planet in the middle of Hutt Space. So barely any Imperial presence there, and shady enough for us to go unnoticed. We’ll switch ships, and then be on our way.”

As soon as she said the planet’s name, he felt an uneasiness rise in him that had little to do with his memories of the place, and everything with the Force. At least, he thought so. The events of the past twenty-four hours had caused his feelings to be a little… off, and his alarm bells went off.

"I don’t think we should go there,” he said urgently, even as he felt he would end up there regardless, because the Force spoke of… an inevitability. “It’s my home planet. They’ll expect me there.”

“We won’t stay. We land, we switch ships, we leave, all in the same docking bay.”

He nodded. There was nothing he could do now, so he sank in the Force, hoping to find some guidance.

The darkness swept him up immediately, and he felt like he was choking, his entire being was held in a steel fist and slowly crushed, and the voice speaking to him was thunderous. He’d never been as afraid in his life, and he knew perfectly well what was happening: this was his father’s unmitigated anger. Betrayal, he felt. A past betrayal too, not just his. 

There was no reasoning with him, he didn’t care to listen anyway. He raged and howled, and his anger was a tangible and very lethal thing. You will not escape, it promised. You will not. There will be a reckoning.

But Luke remembered, he’d felt this kind of anger once before. He’d been a boy in the adjacent training room, waiting for his father to return. He’d been terrified, but when his father entered again and saw his son sitting there, crying, he said: “Never fear. I will never hurt you, my son. No one will ever touch you. That I swear.” 

How things had changed. He wanted to escape this nightmare, tried to wake up, he wanted to express all he thought and felt, he wished he could look past the dark armour of his father right now, and thought of all the times he sat in Vader’s lap in his meditation chamber as a boy, pressed himself against the forbidding armour, and said: “Tell me more, father.” How he touched his father’s cheek, and with a sigh - a sigh Vader enjoyed more than a human should be able to enjoy such a simple thing as a sigh - he said, “Very well,” and he told the same story over and over. 

He remembered that it had been only a month ago that he was lounging on the couch in his father’s quarters, and when Vader had entered, he sat up, and said: “Can we talk?” ‘Can we talk’ meant: can we speak face to face. So he was a little too big now to sit in his father’s lap, but he’d done so anyway, because that way he could lean in close enough so his father could clearly make out his features while unmasked. “I’m scared of what’s happening, father. I… can’t do this anymore.”

A mere month ago he’d been sure of his father’s unconditional love, and now they were landing on Tatooine, and he was not surprised by the garrison of stormtroopers waiting for them when they left the ship, but he didn’t resist. His father was very close after all.

Leia sat on her knees with her hands above her head next to the other crew members, but he was definitely singled out, and… there, there he came. It should have been impossible to hear the respirator and his father’s heavy footfalls from such a distance, and perhaps he only did so in his mind, but then again, he’d never thought he would sit on this side, that he would fear the Sith walking towards him. He knew all about his father’s intimidation tactics, but he felt still affected, and this time, when Darth Vader stood right in front of him, he was terrified. For this time, he couldn’t see his father behind the armour.

~ _Amylion_

* * *

There he was, at last.

Vader had never thought he would see him there, kneeling on the ground with blasters trained at him in the middle of Rebels, such resolve in his face. 

Such fear in his eyes.

The air of Tatooine was hot, but not as much as the pool of raging lava simmering in the pit of Vader’s guts. 

He took a step forward, and Luke _flinched_.

It was a tiny reaction, so small Vader doubted anyone else had seen it, but their bond in the Force magnified everything. Luke’s terror bled through it, intense, despairing, an emotion Vader had never expected to be the cause of.

It only served to incense him more. The boy had brought this on himself.

“Take them away,” he ordered, still looking Luke in the eye.

Luke swallowed.

“Father... “

Vader backhanded him. Luke’s head whipped to the side, unbalancing him, and he fell on the hard concrete. 

He would not stand this, would not let him _mock him further_ -

More slowly than the blow warranted, Luke straightened, shaking like a leaf.

“Father, _please_ ,” he whispered.

Vader struck him again, lashing out at him in the Force.

How _dare_ he. How dare he appeal to him now, looking at him like he had as a child when waking up after a nightmare and begging him to stay while he fell asleep again, as if this was anything less than the cold, harsh reality. 

That boy was gone. Vader knew it, wouldn’t fall for his lies again.

Luke struggled to breathe, his eyes wide open, still kneeling trembling in front of Vader. His fingers didn’t claw at his throat, although he couldn’t help the airless gaps as his body desperately sought oxygen.

A _Rebel._ Vader wondered when it had come to this, what he had done wrong in the boy’s education for him to fall so low, a traitor, a _criminal_.

Why did all his loved ones turn against him?

Luke’s presence flickered in the Force, like a flame threatening to go out.

Vader started, as if burnt. His grip loosened, and his son fell forward on his hands, coughing, wheezing and gulping in all the air he could. A groan escaped him, small and miserable. Instead of fanning Vader’s rage, it tore his chest asunder.

His son.

His _traitorous_ son.

Just like his mother.

_It seemed, in your anger, you killed her._

Vader let his hand down, a bitter, empty gap in his chest instead of the previous ravaging fire. Luke looked up at him, then hung his head down again.

Defeated. Resigned. Much the same as Vader felt.

Even though he’d lost his son, he couldn’t bear the thought of his death.

He turned around, unable to stand the sight of him any longer.

“Go.”

Luke’s surprise resounded in the Force.

Vader didn’t want to hear his answer. He ordered the troopers to set the Rebels free, still pointedly ignoring the boy who was slowly rising to his feet.

A hesitant tendril of light brushed against his mind, soft and tender, unbearably familiar.

_I’m sorry._

Vader had to hold back his anger again, knowing it was pointless. He had made his decision, and so had Luke.

His son regretted hurting him, regretted the loss of trust, the parting of their ways. He held no remorse over his betrayal itself.

After making sure his troops had obeyed his orders, helping the bewilderment of some of them with a subtle mind trick, he headed back to his own shuttle without looking back, without seeing Luke off.

The second rupture of their bond, once he jumped to hyperspace, felt like a painful end.

~ _Azalea_

* * *

Much like Luke, Leia’s eyes never left the black caped back as they were ushered towards the ship that had been waiting for them. Around them her strike team were visibly as bewildered as the Imperials, but Leia kept her focus. Any moment now the Emperor’s butcher could change his mind, and she would not be taken by surprise. 

She kept her glare until the landing ramp closed and she lost sight of Vader. Not about to waste a single moment she ran past a shell shocked Luke to the cockpit, starting up the ship. The sooner they were in the air the sooner she could try to work through what in the Force just happened. 

The Imps must have had a tracker on the other ship and they certainly had time enough to put a tracker on this. They couldn’t go straight to base. She ran through the navicomputer, looking for a destination where they could get a new ship. With great exasperation she realized she wished Han was here, the infuriating smuggler always knew where to go in these situations. With her less than stellar knowledge of smugglers harbors she only had the option of somewhere she was sure they could get a new ship. Naboo was closest and it was certainly ballsy enough to be unexpected. As long as they were discrete she was sure Ryoo would lend a hand.

She hit the lever for hyperspace and for now at least they were safe.

With a sigh she got up, and went back into the belly of the ship. She glared fiercely at the ones who looked at Luke with distrust until they looked away in shame. The idea that Vader had let them go still didn’t comprehend in her brain.

“We’re going to Naboo,” she announced, weathering the disbelieving gazes of her team with sheer obstinacy. “We need another ship. I suggest you all search this ship and pack all supplies. We’re going to need them.”

As her team disbanded to look the ship over, she went over to where Luke was sitting against the wall, he hadn’t reacted at all. He was pale and shaking.

There were those among high command that had called her a fool for responding to Luke’s queries. Vader’s son himself looking to pass on information to the Rebellion had been the most obvious trap. But Leia remembered Luke from when she was a senator, even if Vader had done his best to keep the boy out of the spotlight. She remembered talking with him in the palace gardens what felt like an eternity ago. And she had known then somehow Vader and the emperor hadn’t snuffed out his kind soul. He’d been woefully uninformed about the state of the galaxy, and Leia herself and the harsh truths she’d told him that day could very well be the reason he’d reached out in the first place.

She also had another reason, one she desperately wished to share with him. To let him know that he was not alone. Vader was not his entire family, but she couldn’t tell him. When her father had told her this she’d been instilled with the importance that this be kept a secret. Like the training with Master Kenobi this was a secret she could not afford to reveal. It would put a target on her back, bigger than it already was. She knew as it was now, she was no more than an annoying bug to Vader and the Emperor, but should they know the truth, there was no force in the galaxy that would stop Vader, and Leia was woefully untrained, her time with Master Kenobi cut short by Vader a year ago. 

But even if she couldn’t tell him why she’d risked so much to come for him the moment she realized the Emperor knew, she could still try to make him feel less alone.

She sat down next to him and knocked her shoulder against his.

Luke looked up startled.

“Hey…” she said quietly. 

~ _Mokulule_

* * *

The Emperor had been furious at Luke’s defection and consequent escape. To see him in a state of pure, unadulterated anger was very rare - he was the cool and calculating type, whose machinations ran deep and were usually undetectable until it was too late. But this had been one of those times, and Vader had been at the receiving end. He woke up the next day in sheer agony, on what he would only realise much later was an operating table at the SuReCon centre. It took another five days before he was capable of relocating to Mustafar under his own power. 

He regretted it the moment he left the bacta tank again. There were traces of Luke’s presence here everywhere, some literal, in the form of a forgotten datapad, his unwashed training fatigues and old drawings, and some less tangible. The silence, for one. It had never been quiet here with Luke around. For the first time in years, the sound of the respirator maddened him. Everything hurt and his stamina had taken a hit. It would take months and a rigorous exercise schedule to be back at his old level, and none of this would have happened if not for the boy’s betrayal. He knew that that had been part of what his Master had intended with his punishment, to fuel his anger at the boy, to pit father and son for once and for all firmly against each other.

When he returned to his flagship it was business as usual, but he was aware of the worried warnings his officers and staff exchanged about his temper. Entering his quarters that first evening, was a shock. Luke’s belongings were strewn about everywhere, like nothing had happened and he could come saunter in any moment, after which an argument about the virtue of cleaning up would ensue. It took a week before he drew his lightsaber in a fit of rage and destroyed it all. Storming back to the bridge, he called up a work crew to deal with the mess. But when he returned for the night, his rooms felt terribly empty.

In the following few months he learned what loneliness meant again. He avoided Coruscant as much as he could and delegated any and all tasks that might bring him to the core. Because of their orders, it was now common knowledge aboard the Executor that his son had defected. No doubt the Emperor cackled with pleasure at the knowledge that his own crew now knew the extent of his failure, that he couldn’t even keep his own offspring within the ranks. These orders he largely ignored, and the Emperor didn’t comment on that - for now. He revitalised his connection to the Dark Side, the one thing his Master did approve of in this whole mess. When he rested, he sometimes felt Luke’s presence fleetingly brush against his own, but it was something the boy did subconsciously, while he was asleep. Once, while he recovered from a minor surgery, he’d felt Luke’s quivering presence carefully map his, and then, wholly unexpected and as clear as day: “Are you alright?” He closed his eyes and for a brief second, just basked in that glorious light presence. He let the grief come to him, let it fuel his anger, then slammed down his shields without speaking a word, cutting all contact. _How dare he_. In another lifetime, Luke would have been here now, would have stubbornly sat at his side until he fell asleep; oh, he’d been such a loyal boy to his father back then. Calling up his anger, he pulled the iv from his arm and rose to leave, ignoring the droid’s protests. He had an Empire to run.

(That his son sought to destroy.)

***

Today was a rather horrible day, as if he had any other kind of days, and three officers had died for their stupidity so far. And then something happened that transformed it from merely horrible to absolutely dreadful: his mind was flooded by the purest, the most instinctive fright he’d ever felt, and it wasn’t his. Something happened then, a flash that overtook all his senses momentarily. He’d gone down in the middle of the bridge, he realised, with a roar that shook all those present to the core. _Son_ . But there was no answer, as he had expected, but he still called out. _Son_ . _What is happening_. He pushed himself up, first on one knee, then he stood with a grunt. Completely ignoring the flabbergasted (and frankly, terrified) bridge, he turned on his heel and marched away. In took unusually long before the bridge personnel returned to their stations again. 

He was pacing up and down his quarters when he sensed a presence. It was the admiral, waiting outside.

“What is it, admiral?” he asked, admitting the little man. He hadn’t even used the door chime, knowing Vader would sense him and let him in if he deigned to do so, and ignore him otherwise. Clever man. 

“My Lord, I… merely wished to inquire if everything is alright.”

He would have killed any other for having the gall to ask such a question of him, but he remembered Piett had been close to Luke, and he knew of their telepathic bond.

“Everything is not alright, admiral,” he said eventually.

“Is it…” he swallowed, didn’t dare continue his forward question. But he answered anyway.

“It is,” he replied simply.

“What should we do?”

“We should _do_ nothing. The boy is a rebel and a traitor,” he snapped harshly.

Piett looked down at his boots. “That is true, My Lord, but… he is also your son.”

“Are you aware, admiral, that what you’re suggesting is treason? And I for one am not ready to turn my back on the Empire. I sacrificed everything for it, and I will not give up the security of the galaxy for a misguided, idealist teenage boy.”

“With all due respect, My Lord, although he may currently be out of favour, he still is the heir to the Empire. After yourself, of course.”

For the first time, Vader studied Piett closely. Where had this bravery come from? He didn’t look the part, and had always been a smart survivor. Or was this the effect of Luke again? He always tended to bring out the worst in people. 

“You make an excellent point, admiral. Set course to the Anoat system.” 

~ _Amylion_


	35. Chapter 35

Without a beat of hesitation or fear, Luke strides towards the fuming Sith Lord Darth Vader- the krayt dragon in that furnace heart of Vader roaring into the Force itself of what he had just witnessed earlier- and wraps his arms around his father's torso, burying his pale face on the cold chest which freezes the Sith Lord in surprise. "It's alright, Father... I'm safe now... I'm safe..." Luke's hoarse voice reassured softly to his beloved father.

Years of experience allowed Admiral Piett to keep blinking and appear otherwise unperturbed, but inside his whole universe was crumbling.

Skywalker. Lord Vader had bloodily slaughtered thousands of their own troops in order to rescue _Skywalker_. The infamous Rebel, the one they had hunted for relentless months across the entire galaxy, the one that had been his commanding officer’s single-minded obsession for so long.

When that impossible word, “father,” passed the lad’s lips, Piett caught himself thinking the world both made a terrifying amount of sense and none whatsoever.

~ _Azalea_

* * *

“Admiral” his commanding officers booming voice stopped him immediately.

He’d been on his way to his quarters, relieved to finally escape the madness of today’s events, hoping to catch a good night’s sleep. 

_hoping that it was all just a strange dream_

But it seems like the universe decided to torture him just a little bit more.

So he turned around sharply, standing at attention and looking Vader straight into his masked face “Yes, Milord?”

~ _Yell_

* * *

Piett felt almost physically ill when he noticed Skywalker, unrestrained like he was a guest, half a step behind Lord Vader. He’d had enough of this, but had an uneasy feeling it was not over yet.

“I have loose ends to tie up-”

“Father please, this is not necessary” Skywalker interrupted, he seemed just as uncomfortable as Piett felt. 

Vader turned to Skywalker. “This is for your safety as much as to prevent escape.”

“But-”

“No buts and that’s final.”

The sheer parental feel of the exchange was deeply unsettling. Piett felt he’d witnessed countless exchanges just like this as he’d grown up. Lord Vader and paternal just did not mesh in his brain.

“Admiral Piett!”

Piett straightened his back and quickly focused on the present.

“I leave my son in your care.” He pointed a threatening finger in his direction, “Do not disappoint me.”

At Lord Vader’s side, Skywalker had covered his face in embarrassment. 

“I do not need a babysitter,” he mumbled through his fingers.

~ _Mokulule_

* * *

Vader turned to stare at Skywalker, and Piett had the odd feeling that the boy had said something his commanding officer found...humorous. 

“Must I list the many reasons why you _do?”_ Oh yes. That was Lord Vader’s special brand of humor. The kind that made full grown men quake in their boots, often right before they were dispatched permanently. 

But Skywalker simply glowered in response, like some sort of petulant child, not the boy who’d blown up the Death Star. “No.” 

“Then you will stay with the Admiral until I return.” There was enough warning in his voice that Piett almost wanted to lean over and explain to Skywalker the benefits of doing as he was told--namely, the ability to continue to breathe. 

But Skywalker rolled his eyes, let out an exasperated sigh, and nodded. “Fine. Maybe I’ll get the Admiral to tell me your dirty secrets.” 

It took years of practice and composure to keep himself from squawking, and he sounded remarkably calm when he explained, “I will do _no such thing.”_

But Lord Vader didn’t seem concerned. “He knows nothing of my _dirty secrets_ so you would be wasting your time.” Then, he turned on his heel. “Watch him, _Admiral._ He had better be in the same condition I left him in when I return.” 

And _that,_ Piett knew, was a real threat. 

How did he get roped into this? 

~ _LadyVader_

* * *

Lord Vader turned back around and walked back the way he’d come from, leaving the sullen Skywalker. 

Piett was at a loss; he’d been on the way to his quarters for some rest, but that seemed impossible now. Lord Vader had told him not to let Skywalker leave his sights, sleeping was not exactly conducive to that.

With a sigh, he waved Skywalker along. The lounge would be as good a place as any. Better than his quarters in any place.

“Caf?” He asked, both an offer and an explanation.

“Oh, yes please.”

~ _Mokulule_


End file.
